


Once More, With Feeling

by katbastard



Series: defining love (and deserving happiness) [1]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom/sub, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Heartbreak, Humor, Lesbian Sex, Multiple Orgasms, PSA: so'hara is endgame IRL and ITF (in this fic), Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Starring:, Surfing, Teasing, US Women's Soccer National Team, alex who wants to punch sonny, emily who doesn't like to feel things, kelley who feels too much, lindsey who wants to smack her oblivious bff, mebbe a little bit of bacon, rose who just wants everyone to get along, tobin who should stop giving advice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2020-09-26 10:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 55,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbastard/pseuds/katbastard
Summary: Kelley catches a wave, but Emily can't catch a break.AKA the classic 'I-slept-with-my-teammate-then panicked-like-a-little-bitch' fic.





	1. Messy Sheets and Soccer Cleats

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! After a lengthy period of no posting (it's been approx. nine hours since I finished Loving Someone Else [shameless self-promotion time: please go read my work. or don't. totally your call. but it's, like, pretty good. and, like, super gay. so, a win!]), I'm uploading my second fic ahead of schedule. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

:::::::::::

Adulting just really blows sometimes. 

Don’t get me wrong, being able to eat avocado toast for every meal is great. Not having to justify the expense to my parents, even better. And now that I have my own apartment, I can play music as loud as I want, bring dates home, and leave my muddy soccer cleats in the hallway without anyone yelling or chastising me. I’m getting a steady paycheck, I work with my best friends, and I live in the #1 soccer-city in America. 

Sure, paying bills sucks, nearly as much as jury duty or calling a TV provider. And the whole ‘errands’ part of everyday life makes me want to die (what is a ‘ply’ and why do I need multiple ones in my toilet paper??? Also, why does fruit go bad faster when I buy it vs. when other people spend the money??? I’m so confused…also, Trader Joe’s can suck my metaphorical dick; they never hide the stuffed animal near the free samples counter anymore). Not to mention the bane of any adult’s existence: fitted sheets. They are proof that the devil not only exists, but loves to make grown women cry tears of frustration and resort to using a tucked-in king-sized flat sheet for the rest of their days.

Despite the sucky duties that come with self-reliance and responsibility, though, my life has (for the most part) significantly improved since I moved out of my parents house and graduated college. 

(I’ll repeat: for the most part.)

The aforementioned bit of adulting that really blows is the fact I have absolutely no idea how to deal with the situation I’ve gotten myself into. 

I’d love to call my mom and cry and beg for advice (or a plane ticket home for the weekend), but one, that’s frowned upon now that I’m a grown-up, two, I have a game on Saturday so it’s not like I even could go home (unless I take the red-eye to Atlanta on Sunday morning, $152 on Expedia, middle seats only — downside: getting to the airport at 4:15 AM; upside: an excuse not to deal with my problems and free food), and three, my mother probably couldn’t aid me with this whole, I-slept-with-a-teammate-then-freaked-out-and-now-everything-is-so-uncomfortable-and-tense, problem.

It’s not like it’s all my fault the sex happened (ever heard the phrase ‘it takes two to tango?’ Yeah? Well, it also takes two to 69, so). My partner was just as into it as I was, I wouldn't be caking concealer onto my collarbone right now otherwise. But the awkwardness following sleeping together? Yeah, that’s 100% on me. 

She wasn’t the one who panicked the next morning, nope, that honor belongs to yours truly. In my defense, though…she just looked so sexy sleeping next to me, bruises littering her stomach and a nice teeth impression on her left boob; the instinct to pick up where we’d left off was only natural. And it wasn’t until she fully woke up, grinding up into my face to orgasm, that I saw the cleat marks on her right arm from yesterday’s game. That’s when the morning went from ‘oh fuck yes’ to ‘holy shit no.’ Because instead of focusing on the gorgeous girl underneath me, coming in my mouth, her thighs nearly suffocating me, instead of focusing on how turned on I’d become watching her fall apart, all breathy gasps and shuddering moans, instead of even thinking how wrecked my apartment had become in the last 12 hours given the number of surfaces in my apartment we had sex on (or against…note to self: pick up windex), instead of thinking about literally anything else in the world, I fixated on a faint impression on her upper forearm. 

Yeah, you heard me right: in that glorious, mindblowingly sexy moment, all I could focus on were those goddam cleat marks. Because I was there when she sustained them. Because we were playing each other. Because our NWSL club’s had a game. And also???…we’re teammates. Yeah, we’re both on the USWNT. Which means we will now have to see each other, and play each other, and interact with each other, and oh god, what if this fucks up the team dynamics, or what if it affects our performance, fuck I don’t want to be left off the Olympic roster again or be the reason her game suffers or —

That’s when my body caught up to my mind and I fully outwardly panicked. 

AKA, I jerked myself up into a kneeling position, barrel-rolled off the bed, and crawled into the closet. 

It wasn’t the proudest moment of my life. 

But how was I supposed to react?!?!

I never meant to sleep with Kelley O’Hara. 

:::::::::

Let me preface this by saying: 

I’m an asshole.

Okay, good, now you know what to expect. 

The morning after the morning after, I awoke to the opening lines of “Bootylicious.”

This was an unusual occurrence for me. Typically, if I heard that song blasted from my phone’s speakers, it was because there was a team bonding event, or I was late for dinner, or I was about to be chewed out for uploading a dope dancing video with her face pasted onto my body yet again. 

This time, though, I didn’t know why Alex Morgan was calling me, especially considering it was 6:30 in the morning, we weren’t at camp, and I hadn’t used my laptop’s editing software in weeks. 

So I ignored the call. 

Then she called again, so I ignored that one, too. 

(Did I mention it was like 6 AM?!?)

After the fourth opening chorus of Destiny’s Child’s banger, I gave up on rest and gave in to Alex’s persistence. 

(Before bitterly judging me on the following interaction, I’d like it to be noted that at this point, I had only gotten about three hours of sleep over two and a half days. Noted? All right, you may proceed.)

“What?” (Mmmmm, my bed is so warm.)

“Don’t you ‘what’ me, Emily Sonnett, I ought to ‘what’ you!!!” (Why is her voice box yelling?)

“…what?” (It’s too early for talky time.)

“You are the biggest asshole in the entire universe, Kel just told me what happened, it’s taking every bit of my self-restraint not to fly to Portland and strangle you right now, do you have any idea how much you hurt Kelley, dickhead?!?” (Okay, so, I’m pretty sleep-deprived, but I think she might be mad at me.)

“What?” (I’m so confused right now, what is happening?)

“Explain yourself before I break both your legs in half.” (I definitely did something wrong, but I haven’t had coffee yet so my brain is not turning on to locate the reason.)

“What are you talking about, Al?” (I have the bone density of a milkman, no one breaks my legs for reasons I can’t remember.)

“You slept with Kelley then ran away and hid like a little pussy, Sonnett, don’t act like you don’t know!!!” (Oh. Shit. I did do that.)

Now I’m awake. “Uh, fuck, yeah, look, I’m sorry, Alex, I was still half-asleep when I answered you, and, uh, in terms of the Kelley thing, I had actually forgot about the team for a sec, uh — we were drinking too much, just having fun, neither of us thought through what it would mean for everyone else, uhm…but I get it, you’re the captain, we could’ve fucked dynamics and shit up, so I’m sorry, I was drunk and then I forgot.“

“How the hell do you forget breaking someone’s heart?!?! Are you that much of an asshole that you don’t even care—“

“Whoa, breaking whose…no, slow the fuck down, Alex, stop calling me an asshole and listen for a second, will you?” I can’t help but let out a large yawn into the phone, and I realize a second too late that it sounds incredibly disrespectful on Alex’s end. 

“Hah, sure, Em, go ahead, explain how you’re not the piece of shit here. Go ahead, prove me wrong.”

I pause, but no rousing speech or prefect defense comes to mind. So instead I go with: “I didn’t mean to.”

“…seriously, that’s all you have to say? That you didn’t mean to? Didn’t mean to what, exactly? Make her fall for you in the first place? Take advantage of that for a night of fun? Kick her out of bed the next day and wreck her? What?”

“I…what? All of the above? I don’t know, okay?” I’m padding into the kitchen now to turn on the coffee-maker. I need caffeine if Alex insists on having this conversation right now. 

“Wow. And you say you’re not an asshole, Emily Sonnett. Well done.”

“Look, Alex, you don’t have to make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be, okay!!! You weren’t there, you barely know what happened, so you don’t get to judge me.” My voice is echoing off the walls and fueling my anger. “We both knew it didn’t mean anything! Kelley and I were super drunk, okay, so cut the shit about me breaking her heart out already. It’s not like we were dating or in love or anything, it was a one-time alcohol-induced mistake, stop making something out of nothing and fuck off!!!” 

The other end of the phone is silent. Then, I hear the dial tone. 

Holy crap. I just cursed out the captain of my team, got hung up on by said person, and had a sudden, life-altering realization, all in the span of a few seconds. 

Alex is mad at me. Because, according to her, I broke Kelley’s heart. Which means…

Which means Kelley O’Hara is, or was, in love with me. 

Fuck you, adulting.

::::::::::::


	2. Nightdreams and Daymares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily forgets to clean up the evidence of her night with Kelley; a revelation and fight ensue.

:::::::::

Lindsey knocks on my door with the force of a stampeding elephant herd. 

BANG. BANG. BANG.

I sit up in bed, silently cursing my best friend for waking me up from the peaceful sleep I had just been enjoying. 

(You will all be happy to know that despite royally fucking things up, I still got a nice two-hour nap in this morning. I’m sure you all feel that, after breaking someone’s heart and then blowing up in my teammate/captain/the best friend of said heartbreakee’s face, I definitely deserved to relax, have a nice lie-in, etc. And you’d be right. Because all the shit that went down earlier? Yeah, that’s not on me. I still regret how I handled the morning after stuff, but everything else? Alex going off on me when I wasn’t even coherent? That’s all her doing. She knows better than anyone how important sleep is; if I were to have woken Alex up with multiple phone calls and a string of curse words, I wouldn’t blame her for reacting badly. So vice-versa, ergo, shazam, voulez vous, etc etc etc, I didn’t do anything wrong. And as for Kelley’s emotions regarding all of this? I don’t want to believe she was in love with me. I just…I can’t believe that. I mean, there is no way…right?)

My inner monologue is interrupted by another BANG. BANG. BANG., so I give my head a quick shake to rid it of stupid thoughts and walk over to open the door for Lindsey. 

“Sup, Son?” 

I shrug in response. “Y’know. The usual. Wanna get coffee on the way to brunch?”

I’m very proud of myself for putting on my clothes before taking a nap, as it means I just need to throw on some slides and grab my phone and keys before we’re out the door now. I share this sentiment with Lindsey on our walk to Roots. 

“Dude, you’re, like, adulting. I’m proud of you.”

I can’t help but cringe at the specific word and the memories I've attached to it, but if Lindsey sees my expression, she pretends like she didn’t. 

:::::::::

It’s not until hours later, long after Haley, Cait, and Ellie have gone their separate ways, that Lindsey brings up my behavior today. 

“You just seem off, Dasani. Wanna talk about it? You know I’m here for you, right?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about anything right now. Yes, I promise I’m okay. No, I will not switch my movie night choice. Why, because Lilo & Stitch is a masterpiece, that’s why.” 

After several different variations of the same exact conversation, Linds finally gives up and starts settling in for the movie. After a minute of trying to get comfortable, she lets out a deep sigh. 

“Where are the blankets, Sonny? Your ceiling fan is whack.”

“Bedroom,” I mutter, still focusing on my TV screen, certain I had just passed Lilo & Stitch in my Netflix queue. 

I hear the shriek and milliseconds later, my eyes go wide as saucers -- I’ve made a huge mistake. 

Because Lindsey is now standing in my bedroom, which (aside from the sheets) is in the same condition it was when Kelley stayed over two nights ago — that is to say, very obviously the den of a lust-filled couple taking each other against or on top of any solid object in the room. I sprint to the doorframe and groan. It looks even worse than I remembered. My floor-to-ceiling mirror has very obvious handprints sliding down it, below them discernible smudges of several other body parts. My dresser top is completely bare, all the items previously taking residence on it scattered across the floor. A sleek silver bullet is thrown on my bedside table, the case in a location unknown. The bathroom floor is still covered in (now dry) towels from when we took our second shower and things got messy. But the most glaring proof is in a pile next to my bed: an inside-out Stanford t-shirt, Under Armour sports bra, and a pair of (obviously removed after some amount of foreplay had already happened) red lace panties. 

“Shit.” 

My swearing evidently shakes Lindsey out of whatever trance she had been in, and she whirls around to face me, her eyes alight with anger. 

“Tell me you didn’t, Sonny. Please. Tell me you aren’t that cruel, that you wouldn't do this to her, please, just tell me you did not have sex with Kelley.”

I glance down to my feet, ashamed, and that’s all the answer my friend needs. 

“For the love of fuck, Em, why?”

I swallow heavily then glance back up at the midfielder. “It just happened? We were drinking, things got heated and then next thing I knew, we were in my bed. It didn’t mean anything, though, we were just drunk and horny or whatever. It was a mistake.”

The expression on Lindsey’s face is a mixture of disbelief, annoyance, and pure unbridled fury. Her teeth are gritted when she says, “And why do you think it didn’t mean anything?”

“Well, y’know, because Kelley and I aren’t together or anything, we’re friends who got drunk and hooked up. So…yeah.”

The disbelief and annoyance fuse together, leaving Lindsey to send me a look of angry exasperation. “I swear to God, Sonny, you are…you might just be the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met in my entire life.” She ignores my immediate sounds of protest. “Kelley is head over motherfucking heels for you, okay, this was not just some ‘drunken mistake’ for her. And given how you’re responding now, I do genuinely believe you didn’t know how she felt until now, which means you’re not cruel, you’re just an idiot.” She pauses for second to unlock her phone and type out a quick message. “Look, Em, I can’t be here right now while you pull your head out of your ass. Rose’ll FaceTime you in a few minutes, but I have to make sure Kelley’s not breaking down right now. I’m sorry, just talk to Rose, okay?” 

With one final disappointed look towards me and the state of my room, Lindsey walks out. I hear the door slam moments later. 

:::::::::

For the first time in my life, I dream of a wedding. I can see rolling hills and clear skies, and vibrant flowers adorning rows of chairs and a small arch. A cool breeze is somehow paired with the feelings of general warmth and contentment. Birds chirp and when I spin around to face them, every seat is filled. A familiar melodic tune starts and, with it, the long walk of a woman in a white dress to the altar. The altar that, I now realize, I’m standing at, and glancing down I find that I, too, am in a wedding gown. When I look back up, Kelley is standing in front of me in her long flowing dress. She nods, and we turn to face the arch. Danger Dan O’Hara is now officiating. Without warning, a sudden sense of dread crashes over me, and I know what is about to happen next. Kelley’s father’s lips move and I hear a shout from behind me. I spin to see a tall, beautiful, modelesque woman approaching us, her eyes locked on Kelley. I just watch as she reaches the woman next to me, says something I can’t make out, then laughs along with my no-longer-future bride. Kelley turns to me, faces impassive, and all I hear is, “Did you really think you could ever be enough?” before the crowd is laughing in my face. Someone roughly tugs at my and I fall to the grass. Looking up, I watch as Kelley and Good Enough Model Girl, now wearing my dress, exchange rings. 

I don’t wake up in a cold sweat, or bolt upright in bed. No, it’s more like slowly floating back into consciousness. I open my eyes to a darkened bedroom and realize there are tears running down my cheeks. 

I don’t remember the last time I felt so alone. 

This is why I’d rather not feel at all.

::::::::::

Kelley is one of my best friends and I love her so much; yeah, there have been times where I’ve wanted to take things farther than the platonic level, but I never crossed that line. I never crossed it because of exactly what happened in my dream last night. 

It’s like that song goes: “You deserve better, better, better than me; Might be what you want, but I’m not what you need.” 

Lindsey’s exasperated with me. Not my fault. I didn’t know the whole story. 

Alex’s extremely pissed at me. Not my fault. I was ambushed while half-asleep.

Kelley is broken-hearted…not my fault. I wasn’t aware I held her heart to begin with.

(This not me shirking my responsibility, by the way. I may have messed up majorly by going home with Kell, but if she was in love with me…that’s on her. I have never given in to my crush, or led her on, or admitted any feelings past friendship. Though I know it isn’t my fault, I still feel sorry about what she must be going through. Feel sorry that one of my best friends in the world, that a girl who is so pure and joyous, that an absolutely incredible woman, that my favorite freckle-faced defender, fell for someone who, as her dream self just confirmed, could never be enough.)

::::::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep giving me feedback -- all the comments and kudos yesterday motivated me to finish this chapter early. 
> 
> Thank you!!!
> 
> #TheSoInSo'HaraIsSortaSad


	3. Rebounds and Friends In Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Thorns vs. Spirit game, the ga(y)ng goes out to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this early, in honor of KELLEY O'HARA POSING FOR THE ESPN 2019 BODY ISSUE, OUT SEPTEMBER 4TH

::::::::

Thank god for Rose Lavelle. 

Because right before Lindsey left, exasperated and disappointed and furious, she texted Rose that I needed to talk. And Rose, being the amazing friend she is, immediately picked up Wilma, who is very overweight and does not like to be held (this is mentioned because it earns Rose extra brownie points), and ran home. 

Not even ten minutes after the door slammed behind my best friend, I got an incoming FaceTime call from Rose, answered, and — immediately forgot about everything shitty currently going on in my life and genuinely laughed for the first time all day because holy crap, how did Rose get Wilma to wear that?!?! 

Instead of seeing my pale friend’s smiling face fill the screen, I was immediately blessed with the image of pure, raw sex appeal: a sweaty, panting, indifferent-looking bulldog dressed in a bikini. 

(I dare anyone not to laugh upon opening your phone to THAT — it’s impossible. Dogs in funny outfits are just universally funny; I mean, right? Seriously, I think that seeing a picture of a Doberman in a top hat could unite even the strongest of enemies…side note: did I just solve ISIS?)

Even after Wilma’s costumed image disappeared from my screen and was replaced with a grinning Rose, that intense feeling of happiness didn’t fade. Everything I had needed to talk about—the fight with Alex and harsh words of Lindsey, the reveal that Kelley loved me, the strange nausea I felt mere minutes before when I tried to clean up my room, each shitty emotion I had been forced to feel over the last two days—that all became background noise. 

“Lindsey said you really needed to talk with me?” 

I grinned at the screen. “Actually, I think I’m all good. Thanks, though.” 

Rose looked confused but nodded. “Oh…okay! I’ll see you tomorrow night before the game?”

‘Shit, I completely forgot we were playing the Spirit this weekend.’

“Sonny?” Rose probed when I didn’t answer. “Are we still on for going out after? Is everything okay? Are you sure you don’t need to talk?”

I laughed away her concerns. “I’m sorry, I just spaced for a sec. Yeah, we’re still on for the bar afterwards; provided, that is, you guys don’t need to go home to cry when we utterly crush you.” 

Rose scoffed. “Oh, it is ON, Sonny!”

“Bring it.”

We glare at each other for a moment until we both break and start laughing. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sounds good! Night, Rose.”

“Night, Sonny!”

:::::::::

I was right. We totally crushed them. 

The bar is packed by the time Mal, Rose, Andi, Cait, and I arrive. 

(Luckily, the bouncer out front is a known flirt with a penchant for blondes, so I doesn’t take long for me to charm our way in.)

“Should we get a table yet, or wait for the others?” Mal yells, her question still nearly drowned out by the music.

“Now.” I reply, nodding my head in case she can’t hear me. “I’ll go get drinks.”

Mal sends a thumbs up before she and the other girls turn to locate empty seating. I start to head to the bar but pause when someone taps me on the shoulder from behind. I spin around and smile as I see Ellie and Raso standing there, evidently having just arrived. I motion to the direction of our group and they quickly nod in understanding and set off to find the others. 

(Lindsey had bailed last minute when she found out I was going to be there (I don’t know exactly why she thought I wouldn’t be here tonight, but I assume it was because of what happened after the prior visit), citing ‘exhaustion.’ It was a bullshit excuse and we both knew it, but, whatever —I wasn’t about to let my best friend’s inability to let shit go keep me from having a good time.) 

I make my way to the counter and get the attention of the bartender. He grins and comes right over, ignoring the protests from customers who have been waiting much longer. 

“Em, good to see you again, how you been, beautiful? Saw you leave with that gorgeous brunette the other day, you know you don’t have to make me jealous, right?” Tony jokingly flirts. “All you have to say is, ‘I switched teams, I want you, I made brownies,’ and I’m there. You know this, Em.” 

I laugh along with him, ignoring the weird pang in my chest that hits when I think about the last time I was here. 

“Two pitchers of your house finest, please, and I’ll consider your offer.” I shoot him back a huge grin and he immediately goes to work, finishing my order in less then a minute. 

“Here you go, beautiful. It’s on the house, but in return I expect you to teach me your ways of wooing women.”

I send Tony a wink before grabbing the beer and starting back towards the table area. 

Making my way through the sweaty throngs of people, I can’t help but think back to the last time I was in this bar, just four nights ago. 

It was probably a mistake for my teammates and I to have made the bet we did. In retrospect, betting on the Thorns to beat Utah wasn’t a bad idea, but the prize of an hours-worth of free drinks definitely was. I’m an adult with a budget, so freeing up the money I would’ve spent paying for my own (maybe a cute girl’s, too, depending on my mood) alcoholic beverages just seemed financially responsible. I didn’t waste any time after we arrived that night, immediately pulling Lindsey up to the bar with me to help me carry the tray of shots I was about to order. It didn’t take long before the edges of my vision started to blur and I got that familiar warmth in chest, and my friends were not far behind. By the time the hour was up, I had taken seven shots, drank three beers, grinded on more than one of my friends while dancing, and fucked Kelley against the bathroom sink.

I don’t even realize I’ve started to play back the memory until I’m startled out of it. ‘Shit, now I’m horny,’ I think before shaking my head and looking up. 

“Hey.” A very pretty girl is standing in front of me, one hand reached out to lightly grip my wrist. “You okay? You looked pretty out of it, I wanted to make sure you’re not going to pass out and die? Or, you know, trip and spill beer over someone’s dress?”

I grin, the images fading as I take it the beautiful woman in front of me. I’m not exactly subtle as I rake my eyes down her body before slowly moving up to meet her gaze again. Her concerned expression is gone now, replaced by a parted mouth and a lusty gaze. 

“I’m all good,” I reply, smirking at her and stepping closer. “But I’d be much better if you danced with me.”

The line works like a charm. I drop the drinks off at my group’s table, shoot them an apologetic grin, and join the pretty blonde on the dance floor. 

Later that night, when she’s passed out beside me, I can’t help but compare the bar girl’s performance to Kelley’s a few days ago. Sighing, I grab my vibrator from the nightstand and quietly take care of myself, the memories of a certain teammate’s writhing body bringing me to quick orgasm. 

::::::::


	4. Flashback to Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily compares two situations; emotions ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Notice the rating change...and enjoy!)
> 
> (I also may have given Kelley a praise kink...so...yeah...)

::::::::

“Shit, Kell, you’re soaked.” I pull my hand back out from her shorts and bring it to my mouth. “God, you taste so good, taste yourself, baby.” I return my hand to between her legs, collecting more of her juices, before I bring it to Kelley’s lips. She sucks on my fingers greedily, and I let out a moan, wetness flooding my underwear at the sight. 

“I need you, Em, please.” Kelley grabs my wrist and pulls the fingers from her mouth. Next thing I know, she’s pulling my hand downwards, easing it into her panties, and sliding my fingers through her folds. 

“Oh fuck.” We both moan out, her grip on my wrist going slack, hips bucking up for more. 

“Please, Em, please, I need you—oh god yes, baby, don’t stop.” The words tumble from Kelley’s mouth as I begin to stroke her, gently nudging her clit every other pass. She feels incredible, I’m so turned on right now, I swear I could come just by touching her. “Em, inside, please, now, I need you.” Kelley pants against my jaw, leaving a line of sloppy kisses across it. Her arms are now slung over my shoulders and I take advantage of the control. 

“Up.” I murmur, using one hand to boost her onto the edge of the sink, the other one not stopping its ministrations. I rub at her clit in tight circles with my thumb while I gently tease her entrance. A flood of juices hits my fingers as I slowly slide one of them into her tight pussy. 

“Christ, Kell, you feel so good, tell me what you want, beautiful.” I curl my index finger inside of her on the next thrust, thumb not letting up on her clit. 

“I need—OH FUCK EM I’M GONNA COME!” She suddenly screams out when I add a second finger with a rough thrust. Her walls tighten around my digits, thighs clamp, body goes stiff, and fingernails dig into my shoulder blades all in the span of a second. I try to move my hand and stroke her through her orgasm, but she’s so tight I can barely move my fingers anymore. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, yes, Em, fuck, fuck, Emmmmmmm.” She chants into my neck while her entire body shudders its way through orgasm. I continue my ministrations on her clit, just rubbing light circles around it, and curl my fingers once — “FUCK!” Kelley cries out as the pads of my fingers hit her g-spot again, and instead of prolonging her first orgasm, this brings her over the edge a second time, thighs locking around my wrist and head thrown back. 

I notice her neck now displayed for my biting pleasure and quickly bring my lips to suck on her pulse point. She whimpers as the aftershocks from two intense orgasms hit. 

A minute after Kelley’s pussy and legs fully relax around my fingers, I remove them from her pants and bring them back up to her lips. “Suck, baby girl,” I murmur into her neck but immediately pull back upon hearing a high, keening moan. 

“Oh…do you like that?” My darkened eyes meet her wide ones. “Do you like when I call you ‘baby girl?’” 

Kelley can’t help but let out a long moan at that, her mouth falling open and hips rocking up into me. 

“Use your words.” I keep my eyes on hers. She returns my hungry gaze with a look of utter submissive desire. “Kelley.” I snap my hips forwards into hers, our clothed centers colliding roughly. “Use.” Thrust. “Your.” Press. “Words.” Swivel. 

“Yessssssss!!!” Kelley’s eyes snap shut and a downright filthy moan erupts from her lips. 

I can’t help but smirk at the horny mess I’ve created. 

“Good. Now,” I pause, separating our bodies before leaning down to retrieve her shirt, “Put this back on. I’m taking you home. Gonna fuck you against every single surface, baby girl.”

Kelley whines out something that sounds like, “not fair,” at my usage of the name. She shakily puts the shirt back on, smoothes her hair, and slides off the sink, nearly collapsing on spent legs before I reach out and steady her. 

I lead her out of the door, past a long line of people waiting for the restroom. Upon seeing us, several dudes let out an impressed whistle. I ignore them and slot my fingers through Kelley’s, sending her a reassuring nod and small smile before we move towards the exit. 

‘This Uber driver better get here fast,’ I think, closing the app after ordering a car and immediately feeling Kelley’s lips leaving gentle nips across the exposed part of my back. 

A few seconds later, her tongue comes out to soothe the bitten flesh of my shoulder.

‘Really, really fast.’

“—OH MY GOD YES!!!” A loud, decidedly un-Kelley voice suddenly cries out, and I realize that the entire time I’ve been fucking Bar Girl on my bed, my mind has been elsewhere — namely, on one of several incredibly hot memories from five days ago. 

After Bar Girl finishes and comes down from her high, she smiles, pecks me quickly on the cheek, and gets up. When she’s completely clothed again, she looks around.

“Do you see my shoes?”

I get up, my naked body wrapped in the bedsheet, and help her to search. We finally find them next to my living room couch (‘makes sense,’ I think) and she’s out the front door a minute later. 

I say a silent prayer of thanks that I didn’t have to ask her to leave, and go right to the shower. 

I don’t realize until I turn the water off 20 minutes later that I’ve been crying the whole time. 

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo......that just happened. Not my best smut (seriously, there's a scene coming in a few chapters that y'all will really appreciate), but it's only the beginning!
> 
> Please keep up with the kudos' and comments, it helps me to know what my audience's thinking!!!


	5. Wet Dreams and National Teams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp starts, Sonny's ankle smarts, and Alex helps Kelley deal with her broken heart. 
> 
> (I apologize for that bad rhyming synopsis...yikes)

:::::::

National team camp was a lot more fun before Alex Morgan decided to kill me. 

(That’s not a figure of speech, by the way. She ‘just so happened’ to be the one to pick up the Portland group up at the airport, and ‘just so happened’ to not hear me when I said I’d put all the suitcases in the back, and ‘just so happened’ to accidentally take her foot off the brake while the car was in reverse and I was directly behind the van. Thank god for Tobin’s quick reflexes, and her desire to walk to the open driver’s side door to hug Alex, otherwise I’d be history.)

After Alex apologized profusely (aka in such an extremely passively aggressive way it was obvious to everyone but Tobin), we started driving back to the hotel. I genuinely breathed a sigh of relief when we arrived, anxious from all the death glares my captain sent me in the rearview mirror. 

I have a strange feeling this behavior will only continue over the next ten days, but all I can do now is try to put it out of my mind.

Lindsey’s still upset with me, too. Moe (my roommate this camp) and I just came down for dinner, and when my best friend greeted my fellow Hoo and ignored me, I decided I was done for the night. 

Now, I’m alone in my room, eating an airport Kind Bar and drinking tap water instead of enjoying good food with my teammates. 

Fuck. I’m gonna start crying again. I need to take a shower. 

:::::::

When I’m finally done in the shower (aka finished sobbing into the stream of water), Moe is back in our room. 

“Hey.” I croak, voice rough from emotion. 

Morgan looks up from her magazine. “Hey, Sonny…are you okay? I, uh…I could hear you sniffling when the tap turned off. Do you wanna talk about anything?”

“It’s just allergies.” I lie, grabbing my phone from the nightstand and curling up with it under my comforter. “The pollen count is high and stuff, I’ll be better adjusted in the morning.”

It’s very obvious that I’m sprouting bullshit, but luckily Moe doesn’t call me on it. 

“Sure, Sonny,” she just replies, standing up and sliding on flip-flops. “I’m gonna go hang out with Mal and Linds, want to join? We’re probably gonna watch The Office for a few hours before curfew.”

I smile and shake my head. “No, but thanks, Moe. I’m just going to chill here and rest for practice tomorrow. Have fun, though!” 

“Will do, and you too! I’ll be quiet coming in later, in case you’re already asleep.”

Nothing if not a woman of her word, Morgan is as silent as possible when she slips into our room two hours later. I hear rustling as she evidently gets ready for bed, and then then a long sigh before her breathing evens out. 

I wait a few more minutes before I dare to roll over onto my back. I know Moe thought I’d been asleep for hours, but the truth was my mind was too chaotic to rest. 

All night long, I kept replaying my interactions with Kelley, conversation with Lindsey, fight with Alex, and the flashback I had while in bed with Bar Girl. 

It shouldn’t come as a big of a surprise when I wake up soaking wet, painfully turned on, with snippets from my dream/memory running through my head. 

‘Shit,’ I think, when I roll over and seeing my roommate’s sleeping form. Not wanting to be impolite, I ignore the stickiness coating my upper thighs and close my eyes, praying for a dreamless sleep to take me. 

::::::

If I had any qualms before about Alex Morgan genuinely wanting to make me suffer, they’d be resolved now. 

We’re not even ten minutes into our first scrimmage and already she’s tried to maim me twice. 

The first time was the first time she got the ball; the sequence went: Alex receives the ball, Alex spins around a midfielder, Alex takes two more touches, Alex shoots the ball…directly at my face. 

Thank god I ducked, otherwise my nose would surely have been broken. 

The second time was the third time she got the ball (though her second possession doesn’t really count, as the ball went out of bounds before my team captain could attempt sportsicular manslaughter again); this time, the sequence went: Alex gets the ball, Alex takes a purposefully too long touch, Alex waits for me to get passed the ball before beginning her attack, Alex comes in with a brutal slide tackle to my ankle even though I’d fully cleared the ball seconds before. 

Jill is now chastising Alex on the sideline while the trainers check my foot. It smarts a bit from the contact, but nothing seems to be broken or sprained. Still, though, the already forming bruise that appears when the assistant physical therapist removes my sock is enough to mean a morning with the RICE method (aka, rest, ice, and elevation…aka, no practice for Sonny). 

So now not only do I want to cry over all the stupid confusing emotional shit happening in my brain right now, I also can’t employ my usual anti-feeling-sad-things tactic to make sure I don’t break apart: i.e., footy and friendships. 

I get a bag of ice saran-wrapped to my ankle before I’m taken back to the field. The PT quickly fills Jill in on her recommendation of the morning off practice, to which (to my dismay), she agrees. 

The next two hours go by soooooo slowly. 

My ankle feels fine, but my chest builds up with emotions every time Alex shoots me a withering glare, Lindsey gives me a look of guilty pity, Rose or some my other friends glances over with concern…and rises to a breaking point after I catch Kelley eyeing me, an unreadable expression on her face. 

I can’t help but dig my nails into my leg to stop from crying in frustration and anger. 

I fucking hate this shit. 

:::::::

Dawn had the great idea to clear the tension between Alex and I by making us lifting partners for this afternoon’s session. 

It didn’t exactly go as planned. 

After the third time Alex “forgot” to spot me, I ask to go back to the trainer’s for my follow-up consultation. 

By now, my ankle has swollen to about 1.5x it’s size, and turned a nasty dark purple color. The tests they ran earlier are repeated and, aside from some tenderness moving my foot, everything is still okay. I go back to the weight room with a modified solo lifting recommendation and directions for an immediate ice bath after lifting. 

Dawn glances over skeptically at Alex after I deny the captain aggravated my injury at all, but nods at me to start the exercises. Alex gets grouped in with Abby and Sam for the rest of the session. 

About twenty minutes after the team is done lifting, I’m finished as well. Per the physical therapist’s orders, I head straight to the ice baths. No one, save for Carli, is still recovering when I get to the tub area off the locker room, and, a minute after I slide my body into the freezing water, she heads out to shower with a nod and a, “nice work, Sonnett.” 

I stand in the frigid water for a few minutes, desperately trying to distract myself with my phone, when I hear words that are way more effective than Best Fiends. 

“Jesus, Al, you could’ve broken her ankle.” Comes Kelley’s angry voice from hallway. 

“Yeah, that was the point.” Alex snarks back. “She deserves it, she treated you like such—“

“I didn’t forget, Alex!!! Jesus…you think I’m going easy on her, or something? Why do you decide what happens instead of me, huh? You think I’m soft?”

Alex’s reply is quieter, and I have to strain my neck to make the words out. “I didn’t say that, Kell. Don’t put words in my mouth. You know I just want to protect you.”

The next thing I hear is sniffling, and my heart breaks before Kelley even utters another sentence. 

“Look, Worms, I’m sorry,” Alex tries again. “I know how much you care about her, and I know that despite how much Em broke you, you still love her. I don’t think you’re soft, I think you’re hurt, but trying to act like it didn’t happen won’t fix anything. I…you told me that you two had sex, then she panicked. Can you talk to me about anything else that happened, so we can deal with the emotions together?”

There’s a pause, and I hold my breath until I hear Kelley clear her throat and begin again. “I wanted it to happen, Al. I…I went to Portland that trip, wanting it to finally happen. I thought…she had sent me this text a couple days before our game, and it must’ve just been wishful thinking, but I thought she was flirting. And I, uh, I thought that maybe she was finally ready to be with me. God, Al…it’s my fault. Everything that happened. It’s my fault. I mean, I must’ve pressured her into it, somehow? Otherwise, why would she freak out the next morning like that, y’know? It’s all, it’s—“ I can tell from the quiver in Kelley’s voice that she’s trying not to cry. 

“No, Worms, this is absolutely not your fault. Don’t put this on yourself. I know Emily Sonnett, and she does exactly what she wants to do. Even when you were both drunk, she wouldn’t have had sex with you if she didn’t want to. She…I can’t believe I’m playing Devil’s Advocate here, but she probably panicked the next morning about something stupid, not just did it to hurt you. And now that I’m saying all this, I’m realizing I should probably stop trying to kill her…”

Kelley laughs shakily. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Okay, Wormy. Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna go grab your bag and water and meet me on the bus in a minute. I’m gonna steal some of those Veggie Stix you love so much from the training room and be there in a few. Good?”

I hear clothes rustling and then the door opening and closing. Just as I hear Alex (I think?) start to sigh, the timer goes off on my phone, ringing loudly and obnoxiously through the empty room. 

“Fuck.” I whisper, as Alex Morgan peeks her head around the corner to determine the source of the alarm, and locks her gaze on me. 

Busted…

::::::::


	6. Beach Days and Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily's mind puts her through the ringer; Alex attempts an apology; Kelley goes surfing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major angst warning. 
> 
> Sorry, guys.

::::::::

The worst part of camp started a few hours after I overheard Kelley and Alex talking about me. 

The dreams. 

Every single night of camp since then, they have occurred. 

And every single morning since then, I’ve woken up even more exhausted than when I went to bed. 

My game is being affected, my relationships with my friends, my ability to perform basic human functions, all of it. 

I see the worried looks from all of my teammates, the concerned gazes from Jill and the coaching staff, hear the whispers whenever I show up at a meal or meeting. I’m well-aware that I look like utter shit; but that doesn’t mean I want my friends to pity me. They have no reason to pity me, after all. Everything that’s happened over the last three weeks, from the night I broke Kelley’s heart (and my promise to myself to keep my damage away from her) to now, is my fault. 

Before the dreams started last week, I had actually deluded myself into thinking I wasn’t to blame for some of the things that have gone down lately. I blamed Alex, when I was the one who blew up at her. I blamed Lindsey, when I should have known better than to expose Kelley to my worthless self. I blamed the world for screwing up my life so badly. 

I was wrong; everything bad that has happened is my fault, and my fault alone. 

:::::

She said never tell anyone. Never. 

You can’t Emily, she said. 

You’re worthless, Emily. 

Only good for one thing, remember?

No one will ever love you.

You will never be enough, Emily. 

Say it, she said. Say you’ll never be enough. 

You. 

Will. 

NEVER. 

Be. 

Enough.

::::::::

Last night, my nightmare changed a little. Before, the dreams were always just of me, alone in a dark room. The walls would whisper, would shout, would repeat over and over: you will never be enough. A disembodied voice reminding me how worthless I truly am. 

I miss that voice. 

That voice was low, eerie, unfamiliar. 

But last night, it was her voice instead. 

You will never be enough, Emily. 

::::::::

The worst part of camp is definitely the nightmares. But the second worst? The camp’s location. 

Or, more specifically, it’s proximity to the ocean. 

Grouped with the fact that certain teammates of mine really love surfing. 

Against my better judgement, I let Moe drag me to the beach on our morning off. And it’s fun, at first. I’m having the best time I’ve had in three weeks, laughing with my friends, joining a sandcastle building competition with Sam and Mal, joking with Rose, talking with Lindsey (yeah, you heard that right. She came to the room yesterday after dinner to apologize for being so distant and cold the last two weeks, and try to talk over what happened. To my surprise, she didn’t push when I said I needed some time before discussing it; instead, she switched topics and invited me and Moe to the beach today). 

I’m having a blast until Kelley gets out of a second just-arrived team van, wearing nothing but a string bikini. 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

It was so much easier to ignore her insanely hot body before I knew what it felt like trembling underneath me. 

Before I saw the look of utter bliss when I curled my fingers just right while fucking her against the floor-length mirror. 

Before I got to witness her strung-out on orgasms and covered in hickeys, moaning my name over and over. 

Before I got myself off on her muscular thigh or felt those nimble fingers working me to completion. 

Before I held her up against the tiled shower wall or learned every secret of those glorious curves. 

Before I had her arms pinned above her head against my window or got off while fucking her with a strap-on. 

Lindsey clears her throat and I turn scarlet, because a) I’ve obviously been staring at Kelley for long enough for my friends and said freckled defender to notice (she’s looking back at me with an expression of hurt and…curiosity?), b) I’m insanely turned on and wet, and c) Alex Morgan is calling my name for at least the second or third time. 

“Uhm, yes?” I squeak, tearing my gaze off Kelley and moving it to her best friend. 

(Feeling her eyes still boring into my skull doesn’t help the arousal continuing to coat my thighs. I curse myself for having taken off my shorts and shirt when I got here; another minute of this torture and the damp spot on my bikini bottoms and hardening nipples will make it abundantly clear what’s going on.)

“Can we, like, talk?” Alex says, motioning over her shoulder. 

I nod quickly, before pausing. “Actually, let me grab my stuff, one sec.”

I can tell Alex wants to protest me dragging whatever this is out, but she remains silent and sends me a thin-lipped smile. 

I’m careful not to bend over or squat in a way that would give anyone a view of my crotch, but it’s hard to button my shorts or figure out the arm and neck holes of my tank top with how shaky my hands are right now. I’m pretty sure Alex and Lindsey have picked up on something, given the odd looks they're giving me; thankfully, Kelley has moved away and is helping Tobin and Ash get the surf boards down from the roof of the van. 

Once I’m fully clothed, I grab my drawstring bag and water bottle and head over to Alex. Lindsey waits until I give her a reassuring nod before leaving Alex and I to talk. 

“So,” she begins, starting to walk farther away from our group, “I’m supposed to, like, apologize to you, and stuff.” 

“Uh,” I respond, after she doesn’t say anything else for a minute, “Okay?”

Alex nods, seemingly satisfied with the conversation, and turns to head back to our friends.

“Wait.” I call after her, and take the few steps needed to stand in front of her again. 

“Yeah, Sonny?” She’s obviously annoyed that her quick and hollow apology is being disrupted by the girl who she still wants to murder. 

(And here I thought we had turned a corner that day in the ice bath room…y’know, given she hasn’t tried to maim me again since.)

“I need to…Lindsey said…and then you said it, too…I, uh…”

“Spit it out.”

I take a deep breath, then do exactly as requested. “Is Kelley really in love with me?”

Alex looks shocked, the hatred completely giving way to bewilderment in seconds. “Are you—are you serious?”

I nod. She just shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Yeah, Sonny. I thought that was pretty fucking obvious by now. She’s loved you for a long time. Why do you think I was so unbelievably pissed when you acted like such a chicken shit after having sex? You broke her heart…and now, I’m realizing that you honestly didn’t know about her feelings…but you still broke her heart, Sonny.” She shifts her gaze from me to where Kelley, Ash, and Tobin are paddling out into the water. “Kell is trying to put up a strong front, but she’s really hurting. Until you find a way to fix that, I’m gonna continue hating your guts.” Alex turns back to me, glares for a moment, then softens slightly and sighs deeply. “If you don’t feel anything back, well, that’s your issue, and, quite honestly, your mistake. But either way, you need to find a way to talk to Kelley and ease some of this pain.”

With that, Alex spins on her heel and walks back over to our teammates. I stand rooted in place, feeling like an anvil was just dropped on my heart, until Lindsey comes over and nudges me.

“You okay, Em?” My best friend is sizing me up, no doubt trying to determine if she needs to have a talk with our captain, but seems satisfied when I give her a weak smile and nod. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just have a lot to think about, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it? We can go for a walk.”

I smile but shake my head. “No, but thanks, Lindsey. I’m gonna head back to the hotel now. I need some time to think.”

“I can come with you, if you want?”

I shake my head again. “That’s okay, Linds. I don’t want people getting too suspicious. Besides, it’s a beautiful day, you deserve to enjoy it. If I could stay here with you guys I would, but…between the stuff with Alex, Kelley, and I, it won’t be very relaxing. And I could use some alone contemplation time.”

“Okay, Em.” Lindsey smiles at me. “Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do. Later.”

“Bye.”

With one final look out at the trio surfing in the distance, I turn around and begin the walk back to our team hotel. 

‘How can Kelley be in love with me? I’m…she said I’m too worthless to love.’

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything will start to make sense soon, I promise. 
> 
> As always, please give me feedback! It really helps my process and motivation. 
> 
> And: #NeverFear (!!!) #ASexSceneIsNear (!!!!!!)


	7. Countdown to Repression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em is grateful; Kelley begs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome...(ish)

::::::: 

For the first time since that morning (after I panicked, that is, not before while I was waking her up in a very nice way), I’m so grateful Kelley and I slept together. 

Sure, it’s fucked up just about every part of my life. 

I mean, yeah, I nearly had my ankle broken by Alex. 

And true, Lindsey, my best friend, barely spoke two words to me over a longer-than-two-week period. 

Yes, okay, I have been having confidence-obliterating, self-doubt/hatred-causing, incredibly-brutal-yet-accurate, really really bad nightmares every night for ten days now. 

But…that stopped today. 

I don’t know if it was the sight of Kelley in her bikini, or the fact that when I got back to the hotel, I was still so turned on I couldn’t help but take care of myself in the shower, or the image that came into my mind as I, well, came, but…

I didn’t have the nightmare this time. 

It was a mid afternoon nap (that lasted until six the next morning), so maybe that also had something to do with it, I don’t know. The point is: I woke up rested, not haunted by a ghost from my past’s words, and, quite frankly, extremely aroused. 

Yeah, that’s right, you guessed it. Instead of a dream where I was repeatedly reminded of my inferiority, it was a dream where Kelley was telling me just how good she thought I was. 

Well, ‘telling’ is maybe the wrong word here…’begging for more’ is more accurate.

:::::::

“Well, you did—oh fuck yeah, right there, Em—you did say every surface.” Kelley pants into the wood of my dresser as I prepare to take her from behind with a strap-on. “Mmmm, please put it in, baby,” she begs as I circle her clit with the plastic dick’s head again. 

“I want you to beg, baby girl.” Expecting the shudder and moan, I press my front to her back and hold her body up when her legs start to tremble and threaten to give out. 

“I got you, beautiful, I got you. Just relax, Kell, you’re okay.” I pull away slightly to pepper gentle kisses across the back of her neck. “Now, will you beg for me? Tell me exactly what you want and how hard, hmm?” Another light kiss to her earlobe and a subtle pressure from the strap-on against her entrance. “I want to hear you beg for me, baby girl.” 

Kelley moans again but instead of relying on her legs to keep her up, she half- drapes her chest across the dresser. 

“Please, Em, I need you,” she whimpers.

“Yeah?” Subtle rock. “Where do you need me, baby girl?”

“I-I-In—fuck—in my pussy, please.”

“And?” I probe farther, one of my hands moving to splay across her bare stomach and the other slowly making it’s way down to her clit. 

“Ohhhhh—“ Kelley moans, now practically collapsed atop the dresser, “Yes, shit, Em, keep going,” she moans as I start to play with her clit. 

I immediately stop and instead give her pussy a light smack. 

She swears, tenses, and comes on the spot. 

Fuck. 

As I rub circles into her upper thigh and press a line of kisses across her shoulder blades, she comes down from her orgasm.

“You okay, beautiful?” I murmur into the shell of her ear. “Or are you too tired for another one, baby girl?”

This time, instead of collapsing, the pet name seems to pour energy back into her body. She lifts up from the dresser, whirls around to face me, and glares. 

“I’m never too tired. Get on the bed, Emily, I want to ride you.”

The role reversal happens so quickly it nearly gives me whiplash, but I obey her command and scramble over to lie prone on my bed. I watch as Kelley struts her way over to me, hands coming up to pull her hair out of it’s bun, and slowly climbs up and straddles my stomach. ‘Holy crap, this is so fucking hot,’ I can’t help but think as she leans over and grasps the plastic dick between my legs. A satisfied purr is all I get before Kelley shifts her hips back, positions the strap-on, and sinks down onto it. 

“Oh my god,” I moan, the pressure of the toy hitting my clit perfectly. 

“So good, so full.” Kelley whispers before rocking up until just the tip is inside her then grinding her way back down. 

‘This is one of the hottest things I’ve seen in my entire life.’

It doesn’t take long for both of us to come, and Kelley to collapse on top of me, the dick still buried to its hilt. With one more little long tremble, she snuggles her head into my chest and passes out, completely wiped from our night. I press a kiss to the top of her head, close my eyes, and am asleep seconds later. 

::::::::::

I half-expect to wake up with Kelley still on top of me. Logically, I know that it was just a dream-memory, but still…it felt so real. Like if I rocked my hips up right now, she’d reward me with one of her adorable gasp-moans. Or if I open my eyes, I’d find Kelley’s hungry ones poring into mine, begging for another go. Like if, when I lift my head from the pillow, I could do that entire morning all over again, and this time, tell her—

What the fuck. 

At that thought, my eyes do snap open (I’m alone, thank god, save for Moe snoring away in the next bed), and I jerk out of bed, landing on the floor with a groan. 

“Shit,” I whisper, freezing for a second until Morgan rolls over in her sleep, her elephant-esque nasal sounds not ceasing even for a second. 

I give a silent prayer of thanks, knowing I wouldn’t be able to deal with a confrontation at this hour, and slowly get back up. I go to the bathroom, pee, splash some cold water on my face, and then stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I look…well, not necessarily ‘good’. But…better. The circles under my eyes aren’t quite as pronounced as they were yesterday; the pale, slightly sickly, tint to my complexion is gone; and my expression is no longer of someone in constant emotional torment. No, now I just look like someone who’s in partial emotional torment. LOL…but all jokes aside, the sleep I got last night has already made a world of difference. 

At that, I turn off the light and quietly return to my bed, ignoring the near-realization I almost had minutes before in favor of a solid couple hours of rest. 

Goodnight, moon. 

Goodnight, son(ny). 

‘Hah, at least I’m still funny,’ I think, as my eyes flutter shut and sleep overtakes me.

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for still smut-baiting (is that a word? whatever, I just made it one, so) you guys!!! 
> 
> How would y'all feel about a oneshot in Kelley's POV about their first night together? LMK :)


	8. Meet Cutes and Exposing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose, Lindsey, Mal, Sammy, Moe, and Sonny talk about falling in love.

::::::

“I think I’m in love, Lindsey…but I don’t even know that for sure, I mean, what does love feel like? I have this like buzzing feeling in my stomach whenever I think about my—I don’t know, actually, we only defined the relationship last night but does that mean I’m the…girlfriend? Yeah? Ugh, it’s just all so confusing and I don’t know what to do, like, do I say, y’know, “I love you”? Do I wait longer than three weeks since we first got together to say it? I don’t want to screw this up, I like Ke—no, wait…I’m, I’m…I’m in love, or at least I’m pretty sure I am, so I shouldn’t say like, because it’s love, right? God, Lindsey, don’t just stare at me like that, I’ve never felt like this before, help me!!!”

“Uh…okay. That was kind of a lot, all at once, but…okay, so, yeah. Love. Uhm…well, the first time I fell in love, it was my high school boyfriend. He was really nice, and cute, and always made me laugh. And, uh, I knew I was in love with him pretty quickly, but I waited until he said it before I did, cuz high school me was kind of a little bitch.” Lindsey giggles, and I can’t help but grin at that, too. “I think I knew when…god, it’s so cheesy to say, even now, but I knew I loved him when all the songs made sense?”

“That’s such a cliche, Linds.” I interject, laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, quiet, Sonny. I’m not talking to you. Anyway, Rose…I think you just have this feeling, deep in your gut, like this thing that pulls you towards him all the time. Being in love is…it’s like having a caged animal trapped in your stomach, and only when your boyfriend’s hand is clasped in yours does that animal stop shrieking or pooping, or whatever, just going crazy, y’know? It’s like that.” 

Utter silence. Then —

Mal, Sammy, Rose, and I burst into laughter. 

“What does that even—why pooping?!?! That’s what I want to know!!!” Sam gets out between gasps for air. 

“And, oh god, why did—“ Mal interjects before dissolving into giggles again. 

There are actual tears in my eyes when I get to take my shot and Lindsey. “Two questions,” I attempt to calm myself before continuing, “First, how many drugs did you do in high school? And second, with all those drugs in your system, how were you coherent enough to free the animal in your gut?” 

Lindsey cracks up at that, too, and then all five of us are breathless and crying (Rose is even rolling around on the floor and Mal just snorted for the fourth time), absolutely alive with laughter. 

(“Ah, hahaha, oh god, guys, ahahaha, POOP!” Sam is not mature with her comments and it only makes it funnier.)

We’re still in hysterics when Morgan enters the room minutes later. 

“What the—“

“AHAHAHA!!!” 

“Um, should I call someone? I’m pretty sure Sammy is going to pass out, her face is red as a beet.”

At this, Sam takes a few deep breaths in, looks Morgan right in the eye, and stops her chortling just long enough to yell, “POOP!” again.

(I’ve been told my laughter is infectious. Now, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I know one of my friend group must possess that quality, because soon (and without any further context), Moe is next to Mal on the bed, laughing her ass off.)

:::::::::

It takes a long time for us all to calm down, and then it’s time for team dinner, so we agree to shelve the love talks until later. Several people (including Kelley) give us odd looks when we walk into the dining room, but say nothing. It’s not until later, when the six of us (Moe joined in officially) get back up to the room, that we realize why. 

And I send a prayer of thanks to God for blessing me with the inability to care about my appearance enough to wear makeup. I’m sure Sammy is doing the same. Because while we do look ridiculous, with our cheeks flushed, hair mussed, and eyes rimmed in red, it’s nothing compared to the raccoon faces my other teammates are donning — mascara smeared from eyelashes to mid-cheekbones.

Seeing ourselves is enough to get us laughing again, and by the time the sounds fade enough to seriously discuss Rose’s love life, we only have an hour until curfew. 

“Okay,” Sam takes a deep breath to calm herself down, then continues. “You want to know how to tell if you’re in love. Well, as the only married member of this friend group—“

“Ahem,” Morgan interjects, and Sammy looks sheepish as she apologizes. 

“Sorry, Moe! I’m used to being the only mature one amongst these jokers. So, anyway, as one of the only two married members of this friend group, I think I can help you.” She pauses and purses her lips, looking away in contemplation before talking again. “Pat and I started dating when we were 20, and from the second or third date, I knew he was really special. For me, I knew I loved him about a month in. I woke up one morning, neck cramped beyond belief, my alarm blaring at me to get up for 6am practice, and Pat was already awake. We had spent the night in his tiny twin bed, and I forgot to set an alarm for practice. But, like it was the most natural thing in the world to him, Pat had. And even though it was like 5:20 in the morning, and he had only gotten a few hours of sleep with 6 foot me in the same tiny bed, my love made sure I was ready for practice, gave me a two-minute shoulder rub, and walked with me to get coffee near the stadium. I knew in that moment…as I looked over and saw him paying for my order (which he had somehow memorized, by the way, despite it being insanely boujee my sophomore year), I just knew I was in love. And the rest is history.”

“Damn.” Mal says, eyebrows raised. “I thought my story was good, but that…that was so goddam cute. Like, I don’t even know how that isn’t a Hallmark movie plot, or something, I’m serious.”

“Yeah…” Sam gives Mal a little shy smile, “He’s pretty amazing to me.”

After a moment’s silence, Moe chooses to be the next one to share some knowledge. 

“Patrice and I had been dating for ten days when we first said I love you. It was…I knew from the moment we met that he was the one. For me, there was no defining point, no sudden realization, it was just…it was just there. Ten days in, and he was my everything. It sounds crazy, and it probably was, but we both knew it was love, and it was real.”

“But how did you know you had fallen in love with him? Like, the day you first said it, how could you be sure you felt that way, if you didn’t have a moment of clarity or anything?” 

Morgan smiles at Rose as she responds, “Because I felt something I had never felt before. I felt safe, and happy, and loved, and whenever I heard his voice or saw his stupid adorable face or even thought about him, I started grinning. And I felt this, this peace, y’know? This contentness. I knew I had found the missing part of me.” 

“Well, damn, you guys just really want my love story to bomb, don’t you?” Mal quipped, lightening the mood considerably. I actually had tears in my eyes from Moe’s story, and, looking around, I saw that I wasn’t the only one. 

(Phew. That would’ve been hella embarrassing.)

“So, I realized I loved Dansby when I spent a third of my first big paycheck on a plane ticket and hotel reservation. Somewhere between Los Angeles and Atlanta, it hit me. I had, without a second thought, spent two grand on booking a last minute flight and fancy hotel room, just so I could see him for 24 hours. And, even when I genuinely made myself acknowledge the financial shitstorm I had just started, I knew it was all worth it. None of that mattered to me in that moment, because it meant I got to be with him again. As soon as my flight landed, I took an Uber right to his apartment and blurted out, “I love you,” before he had even fully opened the door.” Mal giggles. “If he hadn’t said it back, that would’ve been the most embarrassing moment of my life. But he did, so it was the best one, instead.”

We all let Mal’s words sink in. Rose looks deep in thought now. I’m about to suggest to her that she just use WikiHow to figure her love life out when she turns to me and speaks first. 

“Okay, your turn, Em. How did you know you were in love the first time?”

“Uh…” 

Five pairs of expectant eyes turn to me, and I know I’m not getting out of this. 

(I hate that my mind is already abuzz with thoughts of a certain freckled defender, that I can’t help but make connections to each of my friend’s stories with memories I’ve got with her. 

‘You’re just projecting, Emily. You do not love anyone, and no one loves you. Stop pretending you’re normal.’)

“Uh…” I repeat, looking anywhere but my friend’s gazes. 

‘Make something up, Emily!’ I think.

“I was, uh, in high school, and, um…” 

I don’t know if it’s the internal panicking, or the feeling of a million eyes on me, or my sudden inability to make up a story, but…I end up telling my friends more than I ever wanted to. 

“Her name was Mandy, she was my first real girlfriend, and she set my heart on fire and stomped it into a million tiny pieces. I loved her. I told her. She said, she said impossible, worthless, how could anyone ever love me, I’m not enough, I’ll never be enough, I’ll never be good enough for anyone, I’ll—“ 

I don’t realize I’ve begun shouting until I feel Lindsey pull me into a hug. As my friends join in and wrap me in their arms, I can’t help but burst into tears. 

“I’ve never told anyone that,” I choke out between sobs, “She said don’t ever tell, and I didn't mean to tell now, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I, I, I—“ I give up on speaking when the hiccups take over. 

:::::::

I don’t know exactly when I fell asleep last night, or where my shirt went, or why HGTV is on mute on our room’s TV, but I do know three things. 

One, I’ve just scarred Rose for life. She was looking for cute happy love stories, and I ruined all of that by being me. 

Two, I feel lighter, somehow, than I did last night. Like by telling my friends about that part of my past lifting a burden, or something. 

And three, my mind wasn’t grasping at straws when it made the connections between Kelley O’Hara and falling in love.

::::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful for all the views, kudos', bookmarks, and (especially) comments this fic has so far!!! Please keep it up, I'm writing so much because of the motivation!!!
> 
> (Also, I'm 3k into KO's POV of their night together, and they haven't even left the bar yet. Subby Kelley with a praise kink? Hot.)


	9. Mandy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily journals about her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty heavy shit. Just wanted to give y'all a heads-up beforehand. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings for Emotional Abuse

::::::

It all began before my sophomore year in high school. I was just coming to terms with being gay…it’s not exactly easy when you’re from a religious family in Georgia, but I was truly starting to accept myself. I hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell anyone yet, though; I mean, I had barely admitted it to myself at that point. And things were normal, or, at least, as normal as they can be when you’re hiding a huge piece of your identity from every single person in your life. The summer before 10th grade, I had a pretty huge crush on my friend, Ana, from the camp I worked at. Emma definitely noticed me acting weird around her, but she never confronted me about it. I think she could tell that I would explain when I was ready. Anyway, I spent that whole summer sweating bullets — partially because it was July in the South, but mostly because I was so terrified that someone would figure me out. I was a baby gay who didn’t know how to control her reactions to pretty girls. And, given the closeted nature of my existence, that was a real problem. 

The last night of camp, we had a counselor bonfire. It was a sendoff to all the seniors, who wouldn’t be back next year, and a celebration for the rest of us. We had s’mores, hot dogs, and then someone rolled out the keg. Fifty teenagers who couldn’t hold their liquor, plus a roaring flame? Well…it wasn’t exactly a recipe for a safe night. Nothing major ended up happening, save for a pile of groundings and one second-degree burn, but in the craziness, Ana appeared beside me and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I agreed, of course, so we started meandering through the woods. A few minutes passed in silence before Ana stopped, turned, and kissed me. It was…for my first kiss, it was pretty magical. 

And I was so happy at that moment. I was about to start my second year of varsity soccer, I had a really awesome group of friends, I got along with my family, and here was this beautiful girl, this person I had been crushing on for months, kissing me. We broke apart after like 20 minutes of making out, and when we walked back to the bonfire, no one seemed to have noticed we left. I was grinning so hard, I was so happy, but…I didn’t know why, but there was this tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me it was too good to be true. That any minute, the bubble would pop. 

The next morning, it did. I was playing footy in the front yard, waiting for Emma to finish her chores and join me, when another girl from camp walked up to me. At first, I just thought she had been out for a walk and randomly passed by, but it became clear pretty quickly that she was there for a purpose. That girl’s name was Mandy, she was a year older, and she had moved to Marietta that June.

We talked about random things for a few minutes before she brought up the party the night before. She was talking about it in these detached terms, like she hadn’t been there herself. It made me a little uncomfortable, but I was curious as to where she was going with the conversation, so I ignored the warning bells. 

When she casually slipped into the conversation the ‘interesting’ walk she’d taken the night before, my stomach dropped. I didn’t say a word back, I just looked at her. Emma walked out right then, and saved me from having to talk further that day. But before she left, Mandy leaned in and said to me, “I’ll be seeing you again real soon, Emily.”

A week passed without incident, but then, first day of preseason, I showed up and she was there. I did my best to ignore her, to pretend everything was fine and that she didn’t hold my fate in her hands. It obviously didn’t work. She cornered me again after practice and went, “See, Emily? I told you I’d see you soon.”

For the next week, she’d manage to get me alone near the end of our sessions and whisper something along those same lines. I started performing worse on the field, my sleep was interrupted with nightmares, I shut down around my friends, my every waking thought was consumed with the fear that I’d be outed. And one of the worst parts about Mandy being able to see me every day at practice was that she could witness the effect her words were having on me. She smiled wider with every yawn, missed play, and foot of distance I put between myself and my loved ones. 

One week is all it took for her to own me. 

Once school started, it only got worse. I was in regular 10th grade classes, but since she had just transferred schools, Mandy had to take a mixture of sophomore and junior courses. And, of course, she ended up in two of the same sections as me. European History second period, Chemistry seventh. At first, she just insisted on sitting close to me, to silently assert her power. A few months in, I was officially failing both of those two courses. I had been struggling with homework and tests in all of my subjects, but history and chem were the worst; I couldn’t concentrate on the teacher’s lecture for more than a minute at a time, because I could feel her presence suffocating me. I’d look around at my friends on the pitch and think about how much they would hate me if they knew. Mandy never even directly said she saw Ana and I kiss, that’s how twisted she was able to make the situation. She could just say ‘hi’ or wink at me, and I’d be on edge for the rest of the day. 

This continued for months. The soccer season ended with me riding the bench. I was almost grateful for the broken foot I got three games in; if it had just been me playing horribly, I never would’ve been considered later for D1 programs. The pro was that my future wasn’t ruined, the con was that I had even more time to be manipulated. 

Over winter break, my family sat me down and tried to get me to open up. I broke down. I was about to tell them everything, I had the words, “I’m gay,” on the tip of my tongue, and then my phone buzzed. A text from Mandy, reading ‘miss u.’ I closed up again on the spot. I gave a bullshit story to my parents and sister about struggling with my injury, and promised I’d do better in school. 

She slipped me a note the first day back from break. ‘U never texted me bak. Meet me at car after skool. DON’T b late.’ 

I was scared about what was about to happen, but she had complete control over me. There was no way I could do anything other than agree. 

So I went back to her place after school, and when she kissed me, I felt numb. My body responded because she wanted it to. This continued for the rest of the year. Mandy would haunt every aspect of my life from afar, then push me into her bed afterwards. 

“This is all you’re good for, Emily.”

“You can never tell anyone about this.”

She was a master manipulator. And I fell in love with her. 

I knew how unhealthy my life had become. She was controlling, indifferent, snippy, sometimes genuinely cruel, but every blue moon, there would be a sweet gesture. Holding my hand during car rides, or stroking my hair after sex. I fell in love with her, and I fell hard. 

Mandy knew, even before I told her, about my feelings, but just used it as further ammunition. Just as she had with Ana and my kiss, she skirted around directly threatening to tell everyone I was a homo, in love with a girl, and having gay sex before marriage. Instead, she’d make offhand comments or make insinuations around other people sinning, keeping me in check with every seemingly innocuous line. 

My self-esteem has never been lower than it was on the day I told Mandy I loved her. We were lying together on her bed after sex, naked and sweaty, and the words just slipped out. “I think I’m in love with you.” She recoiled like a snake had bitten her. I’ll never forget the anger in her eyes that afternoon. It was a look of pure fury and it was directed right at me. 

“No thinking, Emily,” she roared. “Never think! This is all you’re good for, all you’re good at. I don’t love you, Emily, no one will ever love you! You’re worthless, Emily. You know you’re worthless! Get out of my house!”

I ran then, barely avoiding falling down the stairs because I was trying to put my clothes on whilst fleeing. When I got home, I collapsed into Emma’s embrace and told her everything. She was furious, promising me she’d take care of Mandy, but, despite it all, I still loved my tormentor. So I made my twin swear she wouldn’t act. 

For more than three months after that night, Mandy avoided me like I was the plague. She didn’t say one word, just ghosted me completely until mid-April. We had been lab partners for over a semester before my confession, but come seventh period that next day, she had switched desk assignments. 

Around mid-terms, I started to get over her, and deal with all the emotions she had brought about. I dug my grades out of the hole they had fallen in and got above 80s on all my exams and group projects. I invited my friends over; despite my ignoring them for a year, they all came. I think Emma must’ve said something to convince them not to give up on me. I even made a plan to finally come out to my family. 

But then, like the flip of the switch, she was back in my life. I think she could see that I was happy for the first time in awhile, and needed to take that from me. Every day I’d wake up to a good morning text, and every night I’d see her sweet dreams message right before I closed my eyes. I was under her spell again pretty quick. 

I didn’t tell my sister that we were back together until the last week of school, when Mandy was graduating. To say Emma was mad would be the understatement of the century. She yelled at me for being so naive and stupid, told me I was a fool for trusting her again, told me she wouldn’t be there next time Mandy broke my heart. And while I get now where Emma was coming from, I didn’t then. My twin’s harsh words just pushed me closer to her. I practically moved in with her the summer before she left for college. She kiss me good night sometimes; other times she’d whisper over and over, “You’ll never be enough.” Some mornings she’d wake me up with cup of coffee; others she’d hit me in the face with a pillow and tell me I was too lazy to love. 

The tiny rational part of me, the one she didn’t always have a hold on, knew how broken I was becoming. But that was another example of her power. I felt myself completely splintering, and I did nothing. Because I loved her, because I believed that she, deep down, loved me, because the years of belittlement did a hatchet job on my self-esteem, because I genuinely thought I deserved that kind of treatment. She made me tell myself that I was worthless, and I have never stopped saying it. I have never stopped believing it.

But here’s the thing: I’ve gone to therapy, I’ve gotten to the point where I can acknowledge that she abused me (emotionally and otherwise), I’ve come out publicly, and…none of that even matters. I know if she ever came back, she at least wouldn’t having my being gay as a source of blackmail. That brings me comfort until I realize she’d just find new ammunition. 

Eight years have passed since she left, and I still wonder what it was about me that made her choose me. There are times, way too many times, when I lie awake and come to the realization that some amount of what she said has to be true. Maybe I’m not lazy, maybe I’m good for things other than sex, but I’ll still never be enough. I’ll still be too broken to love. 

Last night, after telling my friends just a minuscule amount of information about Mandy, I had that big moment of realization that Rose was talking about. 

I realized that, despite my best efforts, I’ve fallen in head over heels in love with Kelley O’Hara. 

And realized that, no matter what, I can never act on those emotions or tell her how I feel. 

“You deserve better, better, better than me; Might be what you want, but I’m not what you need.”

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...yeah. I hope that wasn't too difficult to read, I tried to tone it down a bit but this is still fairly heavy. I'm posting this chapter early in case I can't update on one of the next few days. Forgive me.
> 
> (And it will hopefully raise your spirits a bit to hear that my Kelley fic is being written!)
> 
> Thank you guys for reading!!! Please lmk what you thought :)


	10. Close to Shutting Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has news; Sam is loud; Em's gonna emote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairly short, I know, but I think you guys will appreciate the next chapter!!!

:::::::

“EMILY WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!”

“Jesus Fuck,” I half-scream, half-mumble as my nap is interrupted in the meanest way possible: a voice box yelling directly into my ear hole and making me fall out of bed to hit the floor with my butt and owwwww—

“Whyyyyy???” I full-scream this time, the pain waking me faster than a cup of coffee. I lift my head off the ground and look back to glare at Rose.

“I told Keagan I love him!!!” Rose tries to tone down her enthusiasm, but breaks and lets out a loud squeal at the end. “He loves me, too, Sonny!!! Oh my god I’m so happy I want to cry.”

I let her words sink in for a minute before responding. “And here I was, worried I’d scarred you for life with my shitty past…holy crap, Rosie…HOLY CRAP!!! You’re in love!!! Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!!!!”

“Thanks, Em!” She giggles before switching her expression into one more serious. “Hey, uh, about that. Do you want to talk about it? I know we were exhausted from emotional stuff yesterday, and fell asleep before discussing anything further. So, I guess my question is….if you wanted to tell me anything or be distracted or treated to adorable dog pics, you know I’m here for you, right?”

My cheeks hurt from smiling too wide, and my vision goes blurry with unshed tears. She doesn’t know it, but Rose has just said the most perfect thing I have ever heard. “Later, I was going to let you all read part of something I wrote last night after practice. It’s raw and I’m honestly terrified to show that, but, uh…you guys are my friends, and I want to prove I trust you with important things, y’know?”

Rose smiles softly. “I’d love to read what you wrote, Linds, Sammy, and Mal definitely will, too, but please don’t think for a second we don’t trust you. I’ve known there was something holding you back, just a little bit, since we met, and knew you’d share when you were comfortable. We will never push you to talk about things that you aren’t ready for, well,” she giggles. “Not these kind of things, anyway. We might overstep or pester sometimes, but that’s mainly focused on figuring out Secret Santa gifts than anything else.” We both laugh before she fixes me with a sincere expression. “All four of us love you, care about you, and trust you, Em. And we will be here whenever you’re ready to talk, okay?”

“I’m gonna get snot on your shirt.” I get out as she wraps me in a hug. God, I have always hated crying, especially when it’s in front of other people. And that hasn’t changed. But, just like last night, I feel weirdly lighter with every tear that falls. “I love you too, Rosie.” I sniffle before pulling back. “I really love you all, too.”

“We know.” 

I can’t help but giggle along with Rose at the breeziness of her reply (maybe she’s the one with the infectious laughter??? huh). 

“Now, enough of this heavy shit. Tell me all about Keagan.”

My friend lights up at that, “Oh my god, Sonny, I’m so happy, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

::::::

Rose and I had to cut our heart-to-heart short when my alarm went off for breakfast, but even still I had promised myself three things by the end: one, I will kill anyone who hurts this literal angel; two, seven thousand dog pics is maybe a few too many to have; and three, I needed to find a printer…so my friends could all read what I wrote about Mandy at the same time. 

::::::

Alex is back to (…what’s the opposite of subtle? Because that is how she’s glaring at me right now) hating my guts. I would ask what I did, but, frankly, I don’t give enough of a shit to let it ruin my morning. I focus on eating and chatting with my friends, and ignore the death eyes I’m getting from across the room. 

“So, guys? Did Rose tell you what she did yesterday?” I ask through a mouthful of sweet potato. 

“What? No? What? Why? What happened???” Sammy does her best impression of a Bobble-Head doll as she looks back and forth between us. 

Lindsey laughs, but shakes her head. “Nope. Did she tell you, Mal?” 

The girl in question shakes her head, and they all turn to face Rose. 

Rose grins coyly at me, “I don’t know, Sonny, do you really think they’d want to know?”

“Hmmmm,” I faux-ponder back. “You know, now that I think about it more, I’m not sure.”

We’re both quiet, acting as though we’re in genuine contemplative states. Sammy breaks the silence with a, “HELL YES WE DO!” and a bang on the table that startles Christen into dropping her plate. 

“Great, now Tobs hates me.” My friend mutters, looking sheepishly towards Christen, who just shrugs it off and bends down to clean the spilled food, and Tobin, who is glaring at Sam like she just had the nerve to insult nutmegs, or snapbacks, or (by far the worst offense) her girlfriend. “Sorry!”

When it becomes clear that Ms. Always-Chill Heath (who will hopefully be hyphenating her last name soon and adding ‘Press’) is not going to acknowledge Sammy’s apology, our group turns back to Rose. 

“So? Tell us, please!!!” Mal begs. Rose gives in after she’s hit with the pout and puppy-dog eyes (poor Dansby. No one can say no to the striker when she pulls those out). 

“Okay, fine! So…I told Keagan I love him last night.”

“HOT DAMN!” The tallest member of our team yells, of course causing Christen to jump and drop the second plate she had just filled with food. Tobin is now glaring at Sammy with the same level of hostility Alex is giving me. 

(Y I K E S)

It is decidedly quickly and unanimously that we should take our breakfasts to go and finish the discussion elsewhere. Sam is purposely as quiet as possible, and makes it to the elevator before opening her mouth. 

“Keagan said it back, you guys!” 

“YESSSS!!!” Came Sammy’s roar, followed by the elevator closing, and the unmistakable sound of a plate shattering. 

“Oh shit…Tobin is gonna kill me.”

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS this is not a drill: Kelley O'Hara has freckles EVERYWHERE. 
> 
> https://www.espn.com/sports/soccer/story/_/id/27491036/uswnt-star-kelley-ohara-championships-celebrations-carbs-body-2019
> 
> I WASN'T GOING TO POST THE SMUTTY CHAPTER UNTIL TOMORROW BUT I HAVE NO SELF-CONTROL SO I DID (and you're welcome)
> 
> cause of death: kelley maureen o'hara


	11. Teasing and Pleasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em loves control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on uploading this tomorrow, but then Kelley graced us with her Body Issue pics a day early...and now I have no self-control. 
> 
> (And neither does KO, really, in the following scene.)

::::

One of the first things I learned in therapy was to not be surprised if I needed to be in charge in my future relationships. 

“When the mind experiences trauma, it often seeks out future situations wherein that trauma is unlikely to reoccur. For you, having been manipulated like you were for so long, it wouldn’t be uncommon to need to switch those power dynamics; I don’t mean act unto others as Mandy did to you, I mean want to control more than you were allowed to in your last relationship. Does that make sense?”

At the time, it really didn’t. It wasn’t until my freshman year in college, as I was hooking up with a softball player, that I understood. 

(She was a little confused at first, but soon found out that she really liked being bossed around in the bedroom. It worked out very well for both of us. Thanks to her, I learned secrets to teasing that I never would’ve with anyone else at that time. Having a steady fuck buddy meant that I was able to explore avenues I had never considered before, and she could figure out just how un-vanilla her kinks really were. The first time I tied her up, she came without me touching her. It was ridiculously hot and the best sexual experience of my life…until it wasn’t.)

It’s thoughts like these that are forefront in my mind as I fell asleep tonight, so I really shouldn’t be surprised at where my dreams take me. 

::::::

“God, you’re gorgeous. Look at you underneath me, so needy and desperate, being such a good girl. I bet you want me to touch you, mm?” Kelley whines and nods frantically, hips fighting to stay level. “Such good control, baby girl. You’ve been so patient for me, I’m so proud of you for waiting so long for me to touch you.” I lean down to lick a long stripe from her navel to collarbone. “Do you think you’re ready for me? Think you can take my fingers? Wanna work three of them into that tight cunt, stretch you so good for me. I bet you’ll feel so amazing clenching around them as you come.” She lets out a series of needy whimpers. “Yeah, you want that, don’t you. I bet you’re soaked right now, baby girl, just thinking about them filling you up so well. I’d go slow at first, make sure my good girl isn’t hurting too bad, but god—“ I fix my hungry gaze on her, drinking in just how wrecked Kelley looks beneath me, how desperate and sexy she is with her blown pupils and teeth sunk into her bottom lip. “By the end, beautiful, I’m gonna be fucking you so hard and fast and deep, you won’t even remember your own name. I bet even now you’re struggling to remember it, and I haven’t even touched you properly yet. I’ll help you spell it out. M-I-N-E. That’s what you are tonight. Say it.” I thrust my hips into hers suddenly and roughly then pull back just as a high keening moan slips from her lips. “Say it.” I command again.

Kelley has to fight to keep her eyes open. She is practically gasping when she finally gets out, “Yours.”

“Good girl.” I give her a feral grin, deciding she deserves a small reward for her effort. My left hand slowly slides down her torso to trace soft patterns above her belly button. She lets out a few soft moans. “Mm, I probably wouldn’t even have to work you open, though. I bet you’re so wet right now, I could just slip my fingers right in and start fucking away. Bet I could make you come without even touching you.” Kelley is mewling now, absolutely gone from my ministrations. “I love hearing those little sounds you make when I talk to you like this. I love hearing you try not to fall apart from just from my voice in your ear.” I pull up and grasp a handful of her hair in my hand then yank back sharply. She cries out wildly, hips bucking up into oblivion. My left hand whips down to rest just above her clit, a hairsbreadth from pure bliss. I lean down to put my lips directly on the shell of her ear. “Mine.”

Kelley’s entire body spasms at the word, her moans guttural and raw, center rocking up into my waiting palm. “Yes yes yes yes FUUUCCCCCCCKKKK!!!” She screams out as the hand that been holding my body prone above hers shifts completely. Our bodies pressed tight against one another, I slide three fingers directly into her spasming cunt and immediately start working away, tightness be damned. I put my body behind it, rolling my hips up so my digits get even deeper and my palm hits her center perfectly. 

“So pretty coming apart under me, clenching and shaking like such a good girl. Bet we can get you right through to the next climax, beautiful, should we try it?” I don’t wait for her reply before bringing my free hand up to her tits and palming one roughly, tugging on the nipple while curling my fingers deep inside her. “Yeah, so needy for me, so ready to come. Bet you were dying earlier, not being touched for so long. But you did so perfect, and this is what you get for being my good girl.”

Kelley is practically keening in on herself, her entire body spasming and jerking and clenching. If it weren’t for my weight pressed on top of her, she’d have flailed completely off the bed by now. 

“Tell me, baby girl. Talk to me. What do you feel?”

A high squeak is the only response I get. 

“Uh-uh, use your words. Tell me how you feel coming apart like this.”

“OHHHH-GOOOOOODDDDD-FUUUUUUUUUUUHHH!!!!” Kelley goes quiet as a silent scream washes over her, entire body locking down like a vice under mine. My fingers are trapped, unable to move a millimeter, in her tight, spasming pussy, and her nails are digging into my back hard enough to draw blood. 

Fuck she’s hot. I slither the hand that was thrumming at her nipple down and slide two fingers knuckle-deep inside of myself. It’s so hot, fucking myself into abandon, feeling Kelley’s body below still attempting to come down from her orgasms. 

(I kind of doubt the sight and feel of me getting myself off right on top of her is helping with the whole ‘cooldown’ thing, but whatever. I’m in charge here. And she did beg me to “use her body however I wanted to”…)

“FUCK.” I get out as my vision goes hazy, and I immediately jerk my head down blindly, finding my way to her pulse point just in time to bite down hard as I climax. 

“Emmmmm…” Kelley gasps breathlessly into my ear as I slowly come down from my orgasm. 

:::::

“Emmmm!!!” 

My eyes snap open, expecting to see a wrecked, moaning Kelley O’Hara beneath me on the bed. But nope, I’m all alone in the room. Loud knocking comes from the door. 

“Emmmm!!! Wake upppp!!!” 

I love my friends, but, at the same time, I hate them so much.

I also need one of them to drive me to Target. I’ve just ruined my second-to-last pair of underwear. 

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO KELLEY MOTHERFUCKING O'HARA, HER INSANELY HOT BODY, AND EMILY SONNETT'S CHOICE OF COMMENTS ON THE INSTAGRAM PIC.
> 
> You have them to thank for the double postings. 
> 
> And I have them to thank for being completely wrecked at work tonight.


	12. Questions and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em gives her friends the details about Mandy; Lindsey lets a secret slip; Mal has weird music taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved your comments on the last two chapters!!! It inspired me to write this one so quickly, actually :)

:::::::

“Someone needs to cut this bitch.” The first response from my friend group comes from Lindsey, of course, and, despite the seriousness of the topic, it makes me laugh. 

(I’m really grateful for my friends.)

“For real,” Rose chimes in from across the room. “I am not a violent person, but I will murder her in her sleep and not feel one hint of guilt over it.”

(Really, really grateful.)

The room falls silent for a few minutes as my friends each finish reading their copies of my journal entry. The occasional, “Damn,” or, “Mandy is such a manipulative sack of shit dicks,” from Sammy and Mal, respectively, are the only things stopping me from crawling back inside myself. Don’t get me wrong, I meant what I said to Rose, and I’m proud that I managed to go through with showing them this, but…that doesn’t mean I’m not still absolutely terrified. 

Even before everything in the journal entry happened, I wasn’t good at dealing with emotions. The only things I cared about growing up were God, my family, soccer, and Waffle House waffles…that list hasn’t changed much over the years (my friends are included in the second item now, of course, and there’s a couple more pieces tacked on to the end, but it has largely remained the same for over two decades). For me, there was only one way I could really express myself…and it wasn’t with my family, religion, or breakfast foods. 

I always knew my parents loved me and Emma, but they didn’t make a big deal about saying it very much. My mom would tell us she cared by having a home cooked meal on the table every night; my dad would show his affection with driving us four hours to soccer tournaments every other weekend. We only sat down to seriously talk, as a family, when things were really important (for example, when I was failing two classes in 10th grade). But other than those rare occasions, emotions were pushed under the rug in our house. My parents were both older when Emma and I were born; having twin daughters at 40 wasn’t exactly easy, and so we tried not to be too difficult for them. Emma found an outlet in her friends, and I found one in footy. 

If I was ever overflowing with anger, I knew I had to deal with it before family dinner; so I’d kick a ball into the side of our house fifty times before coming inside. If I was frustrated or upset about classes, I’d watch old game film before starting my homework; it relaxed me to think about ways to improve my techniques at both something I loved (soccer) and something I didn’t (school). When I was felling sad, that meant hours of getting myself out of my own head via a pickup game with the older neighborhood kids. And when I was happy, I celebrated by scoring goal after goal in the rusty net in our backyard. Everything I didn’t know how to put into words, I put into the net. And that process worked…for awhile, at least. It wasn’t until Mandy stole even my love of the game that I realized how unprepared I was for feeling. 

“Em?” Rose’s timid voice breaks me out of my inner monologue, and I look up to see all my friends looking at me with concern. “Are you okay?”

I manage a small smile. “Yeah, just thinking about stuff. Emotions, and whatnot.”

“Only you would say ‘whatnot’ without a hint of sarcasm,” Mal responds with a snort. 

I can’t help but laugh along with her for a few moments. Then, the room goes quiet again.

Lindsey breaks the silence. “Thank you for sharing this with us.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “It was really brave of you. And we’re all really honored that you trust us enough to tell us about your past.” 

“We’d also really like this bitch’s last name. Y’know, just to say hi.” 

“Mal Pugh, here with the murderous intent, damn…” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I did really enjoy your use of ‘shit dicks’ earlier though, by the way.”

She grins back at me. “I just call them like I see them.”

“Hey, so…can we, like, ask you questions about this?” Rose interjects from her spot on Moe’s bed. 

“Yeah,” I swallow. “Anything you want.”

“Can I…uh, the timeline confused me a little, um, I guess I just…do you mind me asking how long this lasted?”

“You don’t have to be nervous about asking me stuff, Rose. I appreciate you wanting to tread lightly, I really do, but it’s kind of impossible in situations like these. I gave you guys copies of the letters because I trust you, and need to talk about all of this with people who love me, and so I will answer everything as honestly as I possibly can.” I swallow. “Two years. We, she—uh, she started this right before my sophomore year, her junior, and it lasted until she left for college almost exactly two years later.”

“Do you still worry about her? Or wonder if she’d ever come back into your life?” 

I nod at my best friend. “Yeah, of course. It— that fear— gets worse whenever I am in emotionally charged situations.”

“Like Kelley?” Lindsey asks, then immediately claps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in realization. 

“What happened with Kelley?” Mal wants to know, Sam and Rose nodding along and looking at me in curiosity. 

(I omitted the last three lines of my journal entry from their copies; none of them know I wrote about falling in love with the freckled defender. And none of them, save for Lindsey, knew about our night in Portland at all.)

“Shit, Linds, really?” I can’t help but be amused at how this conversation has gone. “Ugghhhh…oh, fuck it, okay.” I turn to the other three girls. “Kelley and I slept together after the Utah game.”

“WHAAAATT?!?!?!!?” Three surprised yells come from my teammates mouths. Lindsey at least has the decency to look contrite. 

“When? Where? How? Where? When? What?” Sam fires off in quick succession before being interrupted by Rose. 

“How could you not— holy shit, Sonny!!! Wait…you mean sex, right?”

“What did—“ Mal stops mid-ask to stare at her. “Of course she means sex, Rose! I mean, they might have also slept, like, in the traditional sense of the word, but…look at Em’s face right now!!! She wouldn’t be blushing like that if they didn’t have sex, and realllllllyyyy good sex, at that.”

“So it was good, then?” Rose ignores all of her friend’s words but three.

“Um,” I know my face is beet red at this point, but I might as well get it over with. “Yeah. It, uh, was kind of the best experience of my entire life, actually…”

“Wait, what?!? You never told me that part!!!” Lindsey cries, her apologetic expression replaced in an instant with shock. “You just said that it happened and wasn’t a big deal, and then didn’t believe me when I was, like, ‘Of course it’s a motherfucking big deal, Dasani, Kell is in love with you, you fucked up so—‘“

“WHAAAAATT?!?!?!??!” The screams are limited to two this time, Sammy just nodding along like she expected that part. 

“Lindsey, you really need to need to think before you speak, come on!!!” I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath before looking back at my confused friends. “Okay, I’m going to give you all two questions, then we’re dropping this topic for now. Deal?”

Mal looks like she wants to protest, and opens her mouth to begin do so, when Sammy reaches over and hits her in the stomach. “Ow!” The youngest member of our group protests, but shuts up immediately upon seeing everyone’s incredulous looks. 

“Yes, deal.” Rose answers instead. “My turn first: how many times?”

“Uhhhh…me or her?” I chuckle nervously. 

“Both.”

“That’s both your questions then, Rose.” Sam points out, so Rose reconsiders.

“Fine…you?”

“Um, five…no, heh, sorry: six.”

“What about her? And yes, that is my second question, now I’m too curious to not ask.”

“I kinda lost exact count after the eighth one, but roughly a dozen.”

“In ONE NIGHT?!?! Holy shit, Em, are you a wizard? Oh my god, guys, it’s like that verse, ‘She doin’ tricks with her pussy, I guess she’s a vagician,” Mal raps along (badly) to the Logic song. “Wait, no, that means Kelley’s…the…magic one? I’m confused. That wasn’t my question, come back to me later.”

Lindsey shakes her head at Mal’s ramblings and goes next: “Who initiated it?”

“Uh, she did, I guess? She asked me to dance, and I, of course, obliged, then she said ‘Bathroom,’ and it’s not like I—“ I shut my mouth as soon as I realize what I’ve said, but the damage is done.

“In the bathroom, Em???!!?!?! Are you kidding me?!?!?! We were all in the bar with you guys!!!” 

“That’s your last question, technically three in all, but…yes, we started in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Sammy decides to take her turn. “Where did it happen after that?”

“Uh, my apartment.”

“Where exactly in your apartment?” Mal chimes in, but backtracks right as I’m about to answer. “Actually, scratch that, it’ll probably just be like the bed and shower, I don’t want to waste my questions.”

I said nothing. I think a lot, mainly stuff along the lines of, ‘Just how vanilla are you?’ ‘Did you seriously just take back the best question yet?’ and ‘Wait until she eventually hears about the window — that’ll be absolutely hilarious…’, but say nothing. 

Sam speaks again. “What was the best time?”

‘Ooh, good one, Sammy,’ I can’t help but think to myself.

“Probably— no, definitely— the part in the tub.” My friend opens her mouth to ask a follow-up, but I cut her off. “Mal, you’re the only one left standing. Two questions, make them good.”

“Uhhhh…ummmm…crap, guys, help me!” She looks frantically between our friends. “I don’t like making decisions!!!” 

Lindsey suggests a question about kinky stuff (‘Mal you are an idiot,’ I think when she kiboshes that), Rose wants to ask if I want to do it again (‘obviously’), and Sammy tells her to find out what happened in the tub (‘…I’ll leave that up to the imagination for now…it sure was hot, though’)

Mal panics and, instead of blurting out a good question about the night or even asking for more time to think, yells, “DO YOU LIKE PINA COLADAS?!?!? OR DANCING IN THE RAIN?!?!?” 

“Ummm…yes, and…yes?” I am rendered near speechless for a moment before shaking myself out of it. “Uh, all right, so I guess we’re done with that whole thing now. Where were we?”

Everyone is quiet, mainly still reeling from Mal’s outburst a minute before. 

“Bitch’s last name?” 

‘Oh, right. 

That. 

I’d kind of prefer to tell them about the round where we used the whipped cream…’

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this!!! I wanted to add in some (platonic-stylez) fluff and humor to offset the Mandy angst (...Mangst??? Did I just create a word?) and this is what happened :D
> 
> Next chapter is blessed with (now more confused than angry) Tobs talks. And (maybe) some KO cuteness, too.


	13. Talking to Tobin: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, it's not Lindsey's fault someone knows; Em rides the bench; Moe looks hot.

::::: 

I’m not surprised when I don’t play either friendly. My performance on the pitch has improved since the nightmares stopped, but a week of missed tackles, bad runs, and sloppy defending can’t really be forgiven with a half dozen sessions of good work. Kelley plays right back for all of the first game, and gets subbed out for Ali at halftime in next. She plays really well. 

(I have to keep reminding myself not to stare. 

It doesn’t always work.)

After our second match, I’m exhausted. Not physically, I haven’t stepped foot on the pitch since warmups, but mentally and emotionally. I feel like I’ve just done a full 90, plus two overtimes, plus penalty kicks…with my brain (a horrible analogy, I know, but I’m too wiped to think of a better one). 

I tune in on the bus conversation only when Lindsey rabbit punches me in the sternum. 

“Owww, what the fuck?!?!” I hiss, the breath knocked out of me despite my sitting position. 

Lindsey shrugs. “You weren’t answering.”

“So you decided that a closed fist to the chest was the best way to get a reply?!?!” I gently rub at the sore spot and wince before continuing my low rant, “Seriously, Lindsey, what the fuck was that for?”

Her expression remains unchanged. “I told you…you weren’t responding. I had to get your attention somehow.”

(I can’t wait to ‘get her attention’ at some future date. Fucking hell that hurt.)

At my pained glare, my best friend softens a little and looks at me empathetically. “I’m sorry, Sonny, that was probably too hard. I didn’t mean to hurt you, though, I swear; I’m really sore from the game and can’t feel my arm muscles. I just punched out, not really aware of the force behind it.” 

I sigh. “It’s fine. What did you need my attention for?”

Lindsey brightens a little. “Oh, Tobin was trying to get you to look at your phone for some reason.”

Now I’m pissed, in pain, and positively perplexed (aLITteration for the win).

I raise up in my seat so I can see her and Christen’s seats. Tobin meets my eyes and mouths, “Text. Check phone,” a few times until I understand the words. I plop back into my seat with a light groan, rub my sore chest one more time, then reach into my bag for my cell. It lights up with another notification as I pull it out. 

(3) Texts from: Nutmeg Queen

I slide open my lock screen to read them and my brow furrows as I do. I’m confused. 

“sonny, team is going to bar tonight, don’t go”  
“we have 7 am flight to PDX tomorrow morn”  
“also i really need to talk to you. so plz stay”

“…what?” 

I can’t help my confusion at the complete lack of communication clarification (for the win again! Fuck you, high school English), peering over the top of the seats in front of me to glimpse at the striker again. Her mouth is pursued and eyes squinting (AKA classic thinking tobito face), seemingly trying to land on a good response (AKA…wait, actually that’s really not classic tobin at all; she never puts this much effort into texts). After a minute, I see the light from her cell phone turn off and hear the ping of my phone’s incoming text alert. 

“plz, sonny, i’ll explain later. just trust me, okay, it’s nothing bad. i just really need to talk to you. plz don’t go out tonight, Moe is so can we just meet in your room?”

I don’t bother replying and power my phone off instead.

(She’s my club captain; I trust her. And I will talk to her. But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.)

:::::

Morgan’s gaze sweeps once more across the messy room, checking for anything she may have forgotten. Once she’s satisfied, she nods and turns to me. “You sure you don’t want to come out with us, Sonny? It’s going to be a lot of fun!” 

I grin at her pout but shake my head. “Thanks, Moe, but I’m just gonna stay here. My flight to Portland is pretty early tomorrow.” 

She nods, but hesitates anyway. I have to quickly assure her that I’ll be fine once more before she accepts it. 

“You look hot, by the way!” I yell, earning a laugh and weird jerky motion for the compliment. Morgan is still doing the (…’spastic badger???’ I don’t know what it would even be called) dance move on her way out the door. 

Sighing, I pull my phone out of my back pocket and shoot Tobin a text.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

::::::

At little over 20 minutes later, Tobin is knocking at my door.

“Dude,” I groan, opening the door. “You’re late. My mind has been going insane with worrying over what you needed to talk about.” 

Tobin shrugs off her backpack and sits down on Moe’s bed before speaking. “Sorry, Sonny, I had to help Chris get ready.”

“But you’re literally the worst person to ask about that.”

“I know,” she laughs. “And she really should, too, after five years of dating. But apparently Alex was busy and Chris couldn’t decide between heels or wedges without someone else’s input.” 

“What’d you say?” I ask, happy to take my mind off the possible topics of discussion for even another moment. 

“I just told her she looked hot in both, and to wear whatever was more comfortable.”

“Fashion isn’t about comfort, though, Tobin.”

“It should be.”

(Can’t argue with that logic.)

Silence falls across the hotel room for a minute before I can’t take it anymore. 

“Why did you need to talk to me so badly tonight?”

Tobin grabs her bag off the floor and rifles through it. “I found this downstairs at the copier. Figured you might want it back.” 

And she hands me my journal entry about Mandy. 

The same one I gave my friends the other night. 

Except this version has the last three lines. 

You know which sentences I mean. 

The ones where I admit that I’m in love with Kelley O’Hara?

Yeah, those. 

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you guys so much for reading!!! I hoped you guys enjoyed (PART ONE) the Nutmeg Queen getting real with Sonny. Sorry it's so short, I had to cut this chapter in half so I could get y'all an update out today.
> 
> Poll: Do you guys want me to break up the KO POV into chapters, or keep it as a oneshot? I think it works better as the latter, but I also know if I keep it like that y’all will have to wait awhile (I’d post it whole soon after the final chapter of this fic goes up, or in chunks when the Emily POV scenes have already been added into posted chapters). Please lmk what you’re thinking!!! And thank you all again :)


	14. Talking to Tobin: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em has major anxiety; Tobin attempts to calm her down.

::::

“Fuck.” 

The words slip from my mouth without my realizing it and hang in the air. 

(And speaking of air…I can’t breathe.)

Tobin is next to me in an instant, pushing me onto the bed and pulling me into a sitting position, arms raised and hands resting on my head. My lungs open up and make breathing a little easier, but the panicking feeling is only getting worse. 

‘She knows, she knows, she knows, oh god, she knows, she—‘

“Whoa, Sonny, you’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you here. Do me a favor, okay?” She squats in front of me. “Inhale for five seconds, hold it for two, then exhale for five. Can you do that for me, Sonny?” 

I nod shakily. Together, we take deep breaths. After a few minutes, I feel myself calming, tension and anxiety slowly seeping out of my body. 

Once I can speak again, I turn to Tobin. “How’d you know how to do that?”

My captain shrugs. “Chris used to get really awful panic attacks after the Olympics. I had to get good at helping her through them. What worked best for her is sensory focus, y’know, ‘name three things you can see, smell, touch, etc.’ When I saw that you weren’t getting enough oxygen, I knew opening up your lungs like that needed to be the first thing we did. If you can’t breathe, you can’t really tell me about feeling the comforter underneath you or seeing that god awful hotel art on the wall.” 

Despite the fact the seriousness of the topic, I let out a small chuckle. 

“Thank you.”

Tobin shrugs again. “It’s no problem, Sonny. I’m sorry I freaked you out. I, uh,” she pauses and looks sheepishly down at her feet. “I’ve been told I’m not the best communicator, y’know, when it comes to things like this. I try to be comforting and descriptive, but instead it comes off as confusing and dismaying. And before you say anything, yes: Chris did teach me those words.”

We both laugh at that. With the mood lifted considerably since my teammate’s arrival, I decide to bring up the topic at hand. 

“So, uh…the letter…”

“Yeah.” 

“Um,” I try again. “What part did you want to talk to me about?” 

“I mean, all of it, really. But the last part was what I know more about.”

“The, uh, the Kelley part?”

Tobin nods. “Yeah, but the not deserving happiness and love, specifically. I know a little about that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” A heavy silence hangs in the air for a minute before Tobin clears her throat and continues speaking, “I’m sorry I read the letter, by the way. Honestly, I recognized the handwriting as yours almost immediately, but saw the last lines first; the paper was folded up at the end, and that was what I had read. After seeing those last sentences, I couldn’t help but read the entire thing. I’m sorry, Sonny.”

I smile through teary eyes. “Thanks, Tobs.”

She sends me a lopsided grin then looks back down. “Can I ask you a question about Mandy?”

“Um…yeah, sure.”

“What’s that bitch’s last name?” 

I burst out laughing. “That’s exactly what Mal and Sam said!!! They also wanted her address, too.”

“Well, that was going to be my follow-up question, so…great minds.” Tobin pauses before her eyebrows furrow. “Wait, you’ve talked to your friends about this?”

“Last night, yeah. Her name came up in a conversation a few days ago, and I completely broke down in front of them. After I wrote the letter, I decided I wanted them to know about the backstory. Rose, Linds, Sam, and Mal…I mean, they’re some of my closest friends. They deserved to know why I ruined their happy ‘falling-in-love’ conversation…and, uh, talking to people other than therapists about it was, I don’t know, freeing, almost? I just feel like a little bit of the weight has been lifted from my chest. It’s weird, I don’t know how to describe it, exactly.”

Tobin nods in understanding, “Yeah, I know what you mean. When you hold something like this in for so long, it becomes a burden. And by telling someone else, a little bit of that burden is taken away.”

“How do you know about that?” I can’t help my curiosity. 

“Uh, well— I’ve never really been good with emotions or talking, as you know. In college, I fell in love with something other than soccer. There was this girl in my communications classes, and we hit it off. We had been dating for nearly a year when I found out she was sleeping with her ex-boyfriend the whole time. I closed up after then, didn’t let anyone close enough to do that kind of damage again for awhile. When I was at PSG, I hooked up with another player, Shirley. It became a regular thing, and, for the first time in years, I let myself feel things for another person again. I opened up more, told her about my past, all of that. She helped me a lot.”

“But you two ended up breaking up, though, right? Didn't you…didn’t it hurt more, the pain over losing her, than it would’ve had you just stayed away from relationships all along?”

“No way.” Tobin shakes her head adamantly and looks me dead in the eye. “It wasn’t exactly fun at the end, sure, but if I had to go back, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m happy that we dated, because she was exactly what I needed at that time. If I hadn’t allowed myself to feel again, no way would I be with Chris now. No way would I be this happy. No way would I have bought an engagement ring during camp.”

I nod, deep in thought. “I’m just terrified that if— wait…what? You…HOLY SHIT, TOBIN!!! You’re…you’re gonna propose to Chris?!?! For real?!?! HOLY SHIT!!!”

Tobin is grinning wider than I have ever seen before. “Yeah, I am. When we’re back at her family’s place in Palos Verdes next week, I have it all planned out and everything. Chris has her dogs trained to fetch the newspaper, you know how much she loves keeping current on world events, so, the morning after we arrive, I’m going to hide the ring box in the New York Times and have Morena and Khaleesi deliver it.”

“That’s…that’s perfect, Tobs. She’s going to love it.” 

Tobin shrugs, attempting nonchalance; her expression of pure happiness gives her away immediately. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I’m pretty sure she knows it’s going to happen in the next year, she’s been dropping hints like crazy, but is definitely not expecting this so soon. I’m usually quite oblivious about these kinds of things; I bet Chris thinks I still have no clue what’s she’s alluding to with all her subtle signals.”

“Like what?”

“Well, in the course of one week, she brought up her sister’s ceremony thrice, each time saying things like, ‘I think I’d want something simpler at mine, what do you think, Tobs?’ She also “accidentally” bought a wedding dress magazine at the grocery store, slipped her ring size into a conversation, and said ‘y’know, this would be so pretty for an, I don’t know, proposal spot, or something, don’t you think?’ every time we got to another part of the trail while hiking the mountains north of Portland.”

I laugh. “Tobs, those aren’t subtle signs…they’re giant-ass billboards.”

“Yeah, but, given how oblivious I’ve been in the past, can you really blame her for it?”

“Haha, I guess not. So…wait, when did you buy the ring this camp?” 

“Remember the day we went to the beach?” I nod. “Well, Ash, Kell, and I were surfing, and when Ash went to catch a wave, I just turned to KO and was like, ‘hey, wanna help me get a ring?’”

I try to keep a neutral expression at hearing the name of the girl I love. I don’t think it works, because Tobin fixes me with a knowing look. 

“So, uh,” I stammer, trying to pretend I haven’t just been figured out, “I’m assuming you bought the ring that day, then?”

She looks amused. “Yeah. Kelley and I told everyone we wanted to walk back to the hotel and hit a jewelry store on the way. The clerk was not pleased at the sand we tracked in, but he calmed down a bit after I bought a pricey ring.”

“Wow. Congrats, Tobs. I’m really happy for you.” 

Tobin nods, going back to grinning from ear-to-ear. 

(This lulls me into a false sense of security — I’m not prepared for what she says next. Every additional sentence makes me choke a little harder on my own saliva.)

“On the walk back, Kelley told me about your night in Portland.”

“She, uh, ha, um, she— what? Um…um, oh, okay, uh, what did she tell you?”

“How you gave her the best orgasms of her entire life, which, TMI dude, I did not need to hear that, how you panicked and hid in a closet the next morning for, like, two hours, and how she was sure it was her fault you freaked because she had said, ‘I love you.’”

“Wait…what? She didn’t…she didn’t tell me that. She never said ‘I love you.’ What’re you talking about, Tobin?!?!” 

The forward obviously notices my rising anxiety levels and attempts to quickly calm me with an answer. 

(Spoiler Alert: her plan backfires, spectacularly.) 

“Kell said she told you after y’all had sex for the, I don’t know, third or fourth time? She said it was while y’all were in the tub, you were holding her, I guess, and she said it? I stopped her explanation when it starting get super gross, but she definitely said that it happened that night.”

“But, she…I would’ve…the tub? All she said then was— oh, no.”

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Three is coming at you tomorrow! I hope you guys enjoyed this. As always: thank you so much for reading, commenting, etc: I'm so appreciative over y'all.


	15. Talking to Tobin: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nutmeg Queen imparts wisdom; Em needs superglue; Kelley has one hell of a debut.

:::::::

“Em, you’re going to pass out. Please, just take a deep breath, arms up on your head like this, open up your lungs, yeah just like that, good, now I need you to inhale with me, okay?” 

Tobin has to wait for a few minutes for me to calm my erratic breathing down enough to fulfill her request. Together, we take deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out. 

“I’m okay,” I rasp when the lightheadedness has faded completely. My mind is clearer, my heart beating at a normal rhythm again, and my lungs hungrily fill with air.

‘I’m okay,’ I repeat to myself, ‘Everything is okay.’

“Sonny, forget about what happened a minute ago, can we go back to our topic from before?”

“You mean Mandy?” I involuntarily wince, though Tobin can’t see it with my back turned to her. 

“Yeah…if that’s okay with you, of course?”

‘No,’ I think.

“Yeah,” I say. 

Tobin can’t read my mind (or my facial expressions), so she takes my positive affirmation at face value. 

“Why do you think you’re too broken to love?” The forward moves to sit directly in front of me on my bed. “Seriously, Em, why?”

“Uh, I mean…you read the letter, Tobin. You know why.”

“No, I don’t. I know that you do think those things, but I don’t know why.” 

“Because…she told me, she, she— I just am, okay?” Tears are beginning to form in my eyes now, but my captain reaches over and wipes them all away before they can fall. 

“Sonny, can you listen to me for a second?” I nod. “No, I mean actually listen. I need you to hear me when I say this to you.”

“Okay,” I meet her gaze and attempt a sincere smile that just ends up looking tired instead. “I promise I’ll listen.”

“Thank you.” Tobin clears her throat, wipes at her own eyes (when did she start crying??? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry before…what is going on), and locks our gazes. “You, Emily Sonnett, are broken.” 

(She pauses for half a minute, evidently trying to find the best words to come next, but I can only wait a few seconds before bursting into tears.

‘You’re worthless, Emily, no one can ever love you.’)

“No, shit, Sonny, don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you cry, shit.” 

If she asked, I’d probably tell Tobin that it was the regret in her voice that broke through my inner ‘Mandy’ voice. Or her arm reaching out to rub awkwardly but lovingly my shoulder, or even the soft sniffling noises indicating she was crying, too. 

But it wasn’t any of that. 

It was the realization that Tobin Heath just swore twice in the same sentence. 

Her use of ‘bitch’ from earlier was surprising enough…but cursing not one, but TWO, more times in sucession? It’s as alarming as it would be for me to order tea or Rose to adopt a cat. Completely out of character. 

And recognizing that dries my tears up real fast. 

“I’m, I’m listening.”

Tobin looks relieved and wipes at her cheeks before she continues her earlier speech. “You, ahem, sorry…you, Emily Sonnett, are broken. But you know who else is broken?”

“…you?”

“Yeah. That’s true. I am. But so is every single other person on this planet.” At my light scoff, Tobin pauses. “I’m serious, Sonny. Everyone is at least a little bit broken. We’ve all had something or someone cause us pain. Everyone has gotten hurt. All of us…we’re all being held together with something. For you, it’s duct tape. You have been dealing with things by slapping on a temporary fix, like putting a bandaid over a knife wound — it’ll only help stop the blood flow for a few seconds. That’s what you did after Mandy broke you. You gathered those shattered pieces as best you could, and wrapped them in duct tape. You were back together, yes, but you weren’t truly whole again. Since you started talking about this, you said you felt lighter somehow. I think some of that tape has fallen off. And you’ve fixed those areas with a more permanent adhesive.” She reaches out to wipe at my eyes again. “You, Emily Sonnett, you need superglue. You…you deserve superglue. And you deserve love.”

I laugh through the fresh tears. “Your analogy is kinda all-over-the-place there, Tobs.”

She waves me off with a grin. “Well, I told you I’m not super articulate, Sonny, what did you expect?”

“I, uh…you really think I deserved to be fixed? That I, that I, uh…deserve superglue?”

“If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

::::::

Tobin and I talk for over an hour before things move back to the topic of Kelley. 

“Why did you freak out that morning in Portland? It obviously couldn’t have been about Kelley’s confession of love, not when you didn’t register it had even happened until earlier tonight. So what was it?” 

I sigh, momentarily consider lying, but quickly push that thought aside. Tobin deserves the truth. “I saw cleat marks on her arm. And it was all I could think about. I just kept internally panicking, remembering we were teammates, being terrified I’d just ruined one of our careers, imagining all the possible ways sex could affect our playing dynamic, all of that. I, uh, that’s when I realized, and— I slept with my teammate then panicked…like a little bitch. That pretty much says it all.” 

“It’s definitely an interesting way to summarize the event.” Tobin shakes her head and fixes me with a borderline-bemused look. “Wow…Kelley was wayyyy off, then. She was so sure it was the, ‘I love you,’ thing. And I was, too; I mean, after I read your letter, I figured your mind immediately chimed in right away with something Mandy had told you, or something.”

I don’t know exactly why hearing that sends me directly into an anxiety attack. 

(But if I had to guess? It was probably the combination of ‘Mandy’ and ‘I love you.’ Putting those two things together in the past has only caused me pain and heartache.

She was just so angry that day. So, so angry.)

“Sonny, hey, no, brea—“ Tobin’s voice fades as the rushing sound in my ears gets louder and louder. My chest hurts. My vision gets fuzzy…and then it goes black. 

:::::::

I wait until she’s sprawled out on my bed, gloriously naked and spent, before standing up and walking to my bathroom. Once there, I quickly shed all my clothes but underwear and throw them into the hamper, pulling a oversized sleep shirt over my head instead. After that, I walk back out into my room, and, content upon seeing Kelley’s adorable yawn, head to the kitchen for two glasses of water. I down mine in a few large gulps and set the cup in the sink before returning to my bedroom.

I freeze in the doorway. My bed is empty.

“Kell?” 

“In here.” I hear a tired voice call out, then the telltale noise of the shower turning on. 

“What’re you—“ I round the corner to the bathroom and can’t help but giggle at the sight of a completely nude and completely exhausted Kelley O’Hara slumped against the wall of the shower. She keeps twisting the nozzle from side-to-side, trying to make the water hotter. “No, babe, I—“ I begin before shaking my head at her adorable pout. I pull off my t-shirt and underwear and step into the frigid spray, quickly switching the knob to off. 

“Hey,” Kelley protests, “I was gonna use that.”

I laugh again. “I know, beautiful, but you can barely stand. Come with me, I’m drawing you a nice warm bath, okay?” 

Kelley takes a moment to think about it before agreeing. She takes my hand and allows me to lead her (carefully) out of the shower and to the tub. I test the water’s temperature. Perfect. 

“All right, I’m gonna help you in and then go get you something comfy to wear, okay?”

“Noooo,” Kelley whines, “Stay with me. I want you to hold me in the bath, wanna feel you behind me.”

Welp, I can’t argue with that. Plus, I’m already naked, and putting clothes back on would just be a hassle, so….

“Okay, beautiful.” I whisper, helping her step into the tub and sit down before I follow behind her, turning the water off as I lower myself down. Kelley snuggles back into my chest, another small yawn following shortly after. 

“Love you, y’know. Take such good care of me. So so pretty. An’ I love when you hold me like this. Feels so right, y’know, like, happy-like? You make me feel happy-like, Em. An’ I just love you so much. An’ for such a long time.” Kelley babbles into my skin, pausing once to yawn again. 

I just pull her closer to my chest, knowing she’ll forget she said all that in the morning. 

I’m about to doze off, too, when I feel water sloshing around and hear Kelley’s quick breathing. 

“Em, Em, Em,” she shakes my arm, “Em, wake up, baby, I just remembered something. Em, wake up, it’s important.”

I open my eyes and see her perched in front of me, wide-awake and alert-looking. 

‘How did she go from 0 to 100 that fast?’ I can’t help but think before Kelley stands up in the tub and steps out. I stay seated for a moment, reveling in her naked glory, before she snaps me out of it and grabs my hand. I let myself be pulled out of the tub and into my room, then feel myself get pushed onto the bed. I stifle a yawn and look up at Kelley, who’s standing next to me and staring intently. 

“Kell?” I question, and she shakes herself out of her daze.

“Sorry, yeah, um…” She pauses. “What was I gonna—oh yeah!” Her eyes fix back on me, her expression now one of utter submissive desire. I recognize the look immediately and, well, I’m definitely not tired anymore…I am wet, though, in more ways than one. Kelley’s soft voice continues, “You made me feel so amazing before, ate me and fucked me so well, and you didn’t get to have me return the favor, baby.” She tilts her head down so she’s looking at me through batted eyelashes. “Will you let your good girl please you?”

“Fuck yes.” I feel the desire to control flood back into me with her request. “Get on the bed, baby girl. Yeah, that’s right, lie down, just like that, beautiful. I’m gonna ride your face.” Without further hesitation, I climb onto the bed and settle over her. I feel Kelley’s hands come up to grip my thighs and pull me into her waiting mouth, but I don’t let myself be yanked.

“Nuh-uh, baby girl, if you want to eat my pussy, I want you to beg. Beg for it. I want to hear you plead to have my cunt riding your tongue, want to see you desperate with desire, want you need to take care of me like I did you, earlier; beg, now.”

Before I’m even finished my sentence, I hear Kelley telling me to use her, hear her begging to taste me, hear her practically crying out just to make me feel good. When I’ve heard enough, I lower myself completely onto her face. Hands grip my thighs and draw me even closer to her waiting mouth. I just smirk when she tries to control the pace. 

From the first hungry lick, I know it won’t take long. I let myself go completely, feel her build me up so good and fast before straightening her tongue and driving up into my cunt. I start riding her face roughly, getting closer and closer and she’s curling it now and it’s barely been five minutes but I’m about to—OH FUCK.

I come into her mouth, head lolling back, body tensing, and lips opening to release a long series of expletives. 

‘I really hope she’s still so awake after this,’ I think, catching a glimpse of myself in the floor-length piece, ‘Because I really want to fuck her against the mirror next.’

::::::::

“Em? Em? Wake up, Sonny!!!” 

(Ice-cold water is certainly one way to rouse a passed-out individual…whatever happened to smelling salts, though?)

I blink repeatedly as my eyes adjust to the light. 

Then I blink repeatedly again, because surely said eyes are deceiving me. Surely the girl standing next to Tobin isn’t…

She can’t actually be here right now. 

This must just be a figment of my imagination. 

I’m now 100% convinced that my eyes are failing, or I’m hallucinating, or I’m still dreaming. So when the thought comes to my mind, I have no qualms about voicing it.

“The pretty love!!!”

(It made more sense in my head, I swear.)

Then my vision goes black again.

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, guys, this is about to hit 8,000 views…I’m genuinely speechless. When I started this two weeks ago, I figured I’d hit 2K, if I was lucky, over the course of months. 
> 
> This is…y’all are amazing. Thank you for reading. And I hope you like this chapter. <3


	16. (Close to) Coming and Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny just really hates early morning wake-ups.

:::::

When I wake up around midnight to pee, I drowsily acknowledge that I’m alone in my bed, with (Moe? Weird, in this light she looks much more like…never mind) another girl’s sleeping form in the double next to mine. 

I yawn and attempt to tiptoe my way to the bathroom. 

(To be a courteous roommate, of course. 

Not because I get a little paranoid at night and am now partially convinced that someone else is sleeping in Morgan’s bed…)

I make it to the bathroom without tripping, using the walls and furniture as my guide. 

‘I’m pro at dark walky times.’

After I’m finished and the lights are off, I’m so busy internally congratulating myself for my trek to the bathroom that I forget to hold the walls on the way back. 

I fall flat on my face. 

“Shit,” I can’t help but cry-moan into the carpet. I start to roll over but freeze as soon as I hear sounds of bedsheets rustling. 

‘Crap, crap, crap, don’t wake up, Moe, stay in bed, stay— fuck.’

But it’s not Morgan that appears above me and pulls me up with one hand. And it’s not Morgan who leads me back to my bed and helps me in. And it’s definitely not Morgan that leans down, after tucking me back in, to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. No, it’s:

“The pretty love!”

I pass out to the image of ‘Not Morgan’ sliding back into her bed. 

::::::

My dream isn’t that far off from my last pre-sleeping thoughts. It’s just…there’s a couch instead. And she’s still sprawled out, sure, but now it’s in my apartment instead of some hotel room. And she’s sliding in, yes, but it’s her hand into her—

I blink once, then refocus my eyes on the sight in front of me: Kelley, draped across my cushions and hair splayed around her face like a halo…with fingers already under her clothes and rubbing away at her pussy. 

“No.” I growl, and yank her hand out, immediately bringing the fingers to my mouth to taste. “Only I do that, baby girl. No touching yourself tonight, I promise I’m gonna take care of you.” 

With that I grip the hem of her leggings and tug down. After a second, and Kelly lifting her hips up to help, her ruined bottoms are in a pile on the floor. 

“Fuck, Kell, look at you, you’re so wet for me, huh?” I dip a finger underneath her panties and draw lazy circles around her clit. Removing my hand, I bring the glistening digit up to her mouth. “Suck.” She wordlessly obeys, pupils blown and breathing quick. “Good girl.” Kelley moans loudly around my finger, hips snapping up involuntarily. 

(Praise kinks are so hot.)

Now I’m the one letting out a groan and moving to lie down on top of her and connect our mouths.

:::::::

I feel like death incarnate this morning. 

Or, sorry: not yet morning.

When my alarm went off at 4:30 AM, I (as I have the documented tendency to do) immediately and unconsciously snoozed it. It went off again, exactly five minutes later. Snooze. Again. Snooze. Again. Snooze. 

(Now, I’d have probably done this exact routine regardless of the dream I was having…but I’m still going to blame it on that. 

Totally would’ve gotten up if my mind wasn’t full of a horny Kelley O’Hara, panting underneath me on my living room couch. 

So wet and ready for me…)

Anyway, that was totally the reason why, just before 5, I stirred enough to power my phone off completely and return to my fantasy. 

:::::

Our lips meet in a flurry of fiery passion. Our tongues battle and our teeth clank and it’s messy and animalistic and so, so perfect. 

About a minute into our makeout, I feel Kelley’s hips bucking up wildly again. 

Fuck. 

I shift my body without breaking our kiss and slot a leg between hers. Adding even a little pressure to my rocking movements has Kelley whining, high and needy, into my mouth. 

I speed up my actions, adjusting my position again so I can simultaneously get myself off on her muscular thigh. Her little whimpers of pleasure combined with the look of submissive desperation in her eyes brings me to the edge within minutes.

‘I’m so close.’

“Come for me, baby girl.”

“OH FUCKKKKK—“

:::::::

“EMILY ANN MOTHERFUCKING SONNETT, WAKE UP!!!”

I jolt so hard I fall off the bed, landing with a loud thump and an explosion of pain on my backside. 

‘Goddammit, I like giving pain way more than receiving, why the hell am I so horny right now?!?! Oh…fuck…the dream…’

“EMILY!” Lindsey screams again from the corner of my room, where she is moving at super speed to throw stuff into my team duffle. 

“Huh?” (Turn off your mouth siren.)

“WE HAVE TO LEAVE FOR THE AIRPORT IN FIVE FUCKING MINUTES, GET YOUR ASS UP RIGHT NOW!!!”

:::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short today, but I realized that the last 400 words of what I had written work much better added into the next chapter. Thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> (Also: 1,000 hits in less than a day?!?! How is this my life?!?!? I love y'all so much.)


	17. Plane Rides and Pushing Feelings Aside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey does a lot of pulling; Em is mortified in the airport; Tobin should really stop 'helping.'

:::::

“I swear to god, Sonny, if you make us miss this flight—“ Lindsey is still furious with me over an hour later. Once I had gotten over my rude wake-up and brushed my teeth, the midfielder checked the time and screamed my full name (plus several choice expletives) again. She then looked at me with a level of anger only Alex could match and started grabbing random items and chucking them at my head (“I meant to throw that charger into your backpack, Sonny, god! It’s not my fault your big, dumb head got in the way!” I didn’t have the energy to fight, so I ignored the obvious lie — my backpack was open and on top of the desk, clear across the room and unmoved from when she arrived and started packing it). 

(So, as you can see, it wasn’t completely my fault that we missed the bus. I mean, sure, I should’ve packed the night before and not slept through my alarms, and, yes, in retrospect, telling my best friend to “shove the hotel shampoo up your butt so it can clean the timing clock piece in there” wasn’t the most mature (or comprehensible) thing to say. But part of the blame falls on Lindsey’s shoulders, too — after all, she is the one who royally screwed up packing and cursed me out over it. I had to take over after a few minutes and dump everything out of my duffle bag. She had packed half of Moe’s gear along with mine, so I spent ten minutes tiredly sorting out all the belongings and shoving crap into my luggage. Then the midfielder noticed what I was wearing (very little), and made me put on the first t-shirt, sports bra, and joggers that she could grab (of course, the clothes on the top layer of my bag were all from the dirty pile, because that’s just my luck — god, I wish I was Irish). Then Lindsey checked her phone’s time again and swore (“I told you we only had three more minutes to pack, fuck, we’re leaving NOW!”), blaming me for our tardiness when she had never told me how soon we needed to be ready. 

Nineteen and a half minutes after Lindsey dropped her dope new idea for my second middle name (‘which would actually be hilarious, can you imagine the reactions I could get?!?! Especially if I told everyone the term is French and pronounced Meau-Ter-Fi-Uck-Ay’), we were rolling our bags off the elevator and into the…empty lobby. When it became apparent to Lindsey that the van had definitely left without us, she stole my phone and ordered an Uber (X, just to spite me further) to take us to the airport (that’s $97 that I’ll never get back). 

We flew through the sliding doors and to the Southwest desk with T-29 minutes. Checking our bags and getting through security were both relatively easy, although I got multiple disgusted looks at my appearance in the processes. Lindsey scoffed when I mentioned this (“who cares what we look like when Mark kills us for missing yet another flight!!!”), but it was easy for her to ignore the sneers and whispered comments — my best friend was looking certified airport-chic: a gray hoodie, fitted leggings, white Adidas sneakers, hair pulled up into a tidy ponytail. I was was sporting more of a hobo-yikes aesthetic, with a stained old t-shirt, wrinkly joggers, smelly socks under (unmatching) athletic slides, and hair that closely resembled something a beaver would build (what are those structures called? I forget…argh, whatever, I’ll think of it later).) 

“DAMN!!! NO!!! THEY CAN’T DO THAT…fuck, Em, help me find one of those stupid flight info screens, this is bullshit.” Upon arriving at the posted gate, we find out there has been a last minute change— and we are now standing in the waiting area for a Miami flight. “Where’s a board?!? Where’s a fucking—“ Lindsey swears again loudly. 

(At least now I’m the only member of our party receiving dirty looks from other airport-goers.)

“G-30! Lindsey! There!” I gesture wildly to the Arrivals/Departures screen behind us. 

‘Wait…shit. That’s at the other end of the terminal…’

My teammate and I lock eyes and it immediately becomes clear that we had just had the same realization.

“RUN!!!” We scream simultaneously, and take off like cheetahs (if both of them were carrying 25-pound backpacks and one hadn’t fully recovered from passing out the night before when its lungs didn’t get enough oxygen). 

Two minutes. 

The clocks on the walls just seem to mock us as we high-tail it across the terminal. 

One minute. 

Had my lungs not started to seize up, I would’ve just let out a large whoop upon seeing the big G-30 sign come into view. 

30 seconds. 

‘Whoa…I feel really dizzy. Why is my vision getting all spotty? I should probably sit down.’ 

20 seconds. 

‘I’m, like…really dizzy now. Something’s wrong. Why can’t I breathe? I should stop.’

10 seconds.

‘Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear; Fuzzy Wuzzy had no—whoa.’

Lindsey deserves NWSL Save of the Week after she catches me right before my head would have hit the floor. I can’t see out of my left eye anymore, and the right one is really blurry. My chest hurts. Lindsey loops an arm under my armpits (“stoooop—“ wheeze “ticklishhhh—“ wheeze) and hauls me and our bags to the last 20 feet to the check-in desk. 

“Hi, the flight to Portland, is it still boarding? We went to the wrong terminal due to a inaccurate email sent by your employer and had to sprint here.” Lindsey is breathing heavily but still manages to appear professional. I’m slumped down in a chair, trying to fill my lungs with air. 

“Ooh! Tobito’s trickery…” I gasp out, remembering how she had shown me how to open up my diaphragm. 

I start to catch my breath within a minute of putting my hands above my head. My vision and headache clear as well; the dizziness disparates as my oxygen intake increases. After a few minutes, the exhaustion of the last two hours (and, really, the last four weeks) hits. Lindsey’s still arguing with the desk lady so I don’t see why I can’t close my eyes…just for a second…so I’ll be more alert….one minute can’t hurt…

“EMILY!”

No sooner have my eyes fluttered shut than my best friend’s exasperated yell shocks them right back open.

“Wha—“ I barely have time to rasp out before Lindsey yanks me out of my seat and starts pulling me towards the now-open gate door.

(‘How in the hell did she swing this?!?! It can’t be fame, neither of us is Alex Morgan or Carli Lloyd. Or money, because a large enough bribe isn’t feasible on an NWSL player’s paycheck. Did she go down on the Southwest lady behind the help desk when I was falling asleep? However this was pulled off, I’m 90-95% sure it wasn't legal. Something shady must’ve gone down…but what?’)

“Sonny, pay attention, you look like a zombie. Where’s your cell? Oh, here—“ Lindsey pulls out my iPhone and opens it to our mobile tickets. Once they’re scanned and we’re inside the walled-ramp-gate-thing, the door is shut behind us with a loud slam. I flinch and grab at the railing to keep from falling. “Sonny! Jesus Christ, one more minute and you can sleep. Just walk through,” she pushes me into the aircraft and down the aisle hurriedly, nearly sending me sprawling in some poor old woman’s lap in the process. “Our seats are back there, go sit with Tobin. And if you could stay awake for one more fucking minute, and not make me carry you to your seat, well, that’d just be real swell.”

(I could be wrong, but…I think Lindsey is mad at me.

Just kidding. I’m not that exhausted… 

I know she’s pissed.)

:::::::

The flight home is exactly as miserable as you’d expect. The immediate turbulence we encounter convinces me to order three cups of coffee— if I’m going to be kept awake with all this bumping around, I might as well make the most of it, right? I can make a list of apology presents for my best friend (Arsenal jersey, gift card to hipster coffee shop), write down topics to talk about with my therapist this week, listen to a Harry Potter audiobook, adjust my budget to include that nearly $100 Uber ride: the possibilities are endless.

(The plan doesn’t work out exactly as I’d hoped.)

I’m definitely not tired anymore. But with my exhaustion-induced muted emotional state lifted, I’m reminded of exactly why I turned my alarm off so many times this morning.

I am still so turned on. It’s hours later and yet the pangs of arousal are hitting me like the dream is brand-new. My underwear are SOAKED. And, as I chance a quick glance down towards my joggers, so are the crotch of my sweatpants. 

(’It’s not that noticeable, just a small dark spot on light gray fabric, directly under an area that is known to cause stains. I’m sure it only looks bad in this light. Or, y’know, maybe, probably, the wetness only seeped through when I sat down…but probably not in the Uber, it definitely only now happened, in private, so there’s nothing to freak out about…

‘So why can’t I stop freaking out?!?!’)

It’s only an hour long flight. 

It feels like a hundred. 

Then Tobin wakes up in the seat beside me, immediately picks up on my uncomfortableness, and proceeds to make the flight seem lightyears longer. Her eyes blearily scan me before popping open wide and zeroing in on my pants. 

“Ahem.”

“Shit, sorry, Sonny!!!” She does seem sincere/apologetic, so I just shrug and close my eyes, praying for the sweet oblivion of death. 

“Um…hey, Em?” I grunt in response. “I just wanted to say that I’m really, really happy that you and KO finally got together.”

My eyes fly open, both from Tobin’s comment and the massive jolt that goes through the plane. 

“We, uh, we didn’t,” I gulp as the turbulence continues. “Why did you, uh, think we did?”

“Oh…” The forward blushes deeply. “Um, with your, well, y’know,” she gestures to my lower half; I invent a new shade of red with how deep my blush goes. “Yeah. And O’Hara showing up at my room at six fucking AM looking wayyyy too happy for the time of day, mumbling something like, ‘no regrets, nope, dating is good,’ and then curling up in my bed texting and refusing to answer my questions, I just, uh…I just figured you two had talked. And, y’know, did other stuff.”

Ten minutes ago, every time the plane hit a bump, a pang of arousal would hit my lower abdomen. 

This time when we lurch uncomfortably, it’s feels more like a stab to the gut. 

Tears escape my eyes before I have time to wipe them away and Tobin suddenly realizes what she said. “Oh, fuck. Oh, Sonny, I’m sure she didn’t mean…I know she loves you, okay, I, um…fuck. We don’t know for sure that there’s someone else.”

(She may not. But I do. 

I should really be used to it by now. 

Heartbreak.)

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending made me want to punch myself...so I don't blame y'all if that's how you're feeling. 
> 
> Sorry :(


	18. Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em journals about herself.

::::::

I’ve gotten very good at hiding my pain by now. 

(#HumbleBrag.)

After everything happened with Mandy, I was in a pretty bad headspace. Emma broke the promise she had made a few months before; she was one of the two people who got me through being broken again. 

My twin picked me up off the ground and held me for hours the day Mandy left. She never once complained, never made me feel bad for crying, never blamed me for trusting my abuser again. Emma, like me, was about to start 12th grade and had already started varsity preseason. We had two-a-days and fitness tests in the morning, worked on the college essay drafts that would be due on the first day of school in the afternoons, and had part-time job shifts nearly every night— we were both insanely busy and insanely stressed. But I was the only one completely falling apart. On the rides home from practice, I just sobbed the entire time. Writing responses to Collegeboard questions like, ‘Think about a difficult situation you have encountered in the past; how did you get through that experience?” gave me panic attacks. Some nights I didn’t have the energy to go into work, so instead I’d walk to the woods near my old summer camp and scream.

Emma took my breakdowns in stride. She woke up earlier, got both of us fed and ready, drove both ways to the field, answered the difficult application prompts for me, and took half of my shifts so I wouldn’t get fired. My sister did that every day for three weeks.

Never once did I hear her complain. 

Which is why, once school started again, I decided I needed to appear okay— so Emma could be. But after a month of holding myself together in public and breaking down in private, I knew I couldn’t keep up the facade much longer. Unless I made a change, I’d fall apart again and drag Emma with me. 

I hated the idea of seeing a shrink, but had to make sure my twin was spared from my shit. 

So I told my mom that I was really struggling and needed to talk to someone, a therapist for example, about stuff. Neither she nor my dad knew how to deal with emotions, so they agreed it was best to outsource it. Every Thursday at 6 p.m., I talked to a psychologist about just how broken I was, and every other hour of every other day, I repressed the fuck out of my past. Emma was able to relax, focus on her friends, start senior year off well academically— everything she would have missed out on if her life had continued to be dictated by the needs of her pathetic sister. 

And therapy actually wasn’t as awful as I’d always thought it would be. 

Most of the stereotypes surrounding going to a psychologist were quickly proven to be accurate. A couch made of burlap and bricks? Check. The same Mozart concerta playing on a loop in the waiting room? Check. A massive bookcase full of textbooks on mental health? Check. A boring old quack of a therapist who speaks in cliches? Not check. 

Dr. Manny was a tall, thin guy in his early-40s. He had thick glasses, wild dark hair, and wore linen suits every single day (working or not— there was photographic proof everywhere. Beach day, linen suit. Disneyland, linen suit. Christmas Day, linen suit). His socks were always decorated with superhero logos or cartoon animals. There was a massive yearlong calendar above his desk with the countdown days to ComicCon circled. He was married with two young kids, the youngest of which he had named after a character from an Ancient Greek myth. One time, I hear him say, “Well, gee willikers, huh?!”

In other words: he was a complete dork. 

He was also a phenomenal therapist. 

Dr. Manny opened up our very first session with the typical pleasantries (“Hi, nice to meet you, how are you?”). But when I responded that I was fine, he plopped right down into his leather chair, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Bullshit.” 

(Only, with his accent, it sounded more like “Boo-Shee.”)

That had me reeling. Up until that moment, I thought I was an expert of hiding my true emotions. But then Dr. Manny figured me out with one glance. It was like he could actually see me for what I was: a scared wreck. And I hadn’t acknowledged until that moment, but…I really wasn’t fine. 

Dr. Manny didn’t bat an eyelash when it came to the ‘liking girls’ thing. In fact, the only time I saw him express anything other than acceptance was at the end of that first session; he had Iron Man socks on, I told him Batman was the far superior billionaire-turned-badass-crime-fighting-machine. He looked horrified at my choice in superhero, the same way a lot of Southern people respond to homosexuality. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Dr. Manny said, “I’m cool with the gay thing. But liking Bruce Wayne over Tony Stark? That is a SIN.”

At that moment I realized: if this weird, middle-aged, incredibly nerdy Georgian shrink can accept my sexuality, then…maybe others can, too. 

I didn’t end up telling my parents about Mandy until Christmas, nearly two years to the day since they had tried to have that family meeting. This time, there was no text reading ‘miss u’ to take away my nerve. This time, it was just my mom, my dad, and my emotional self. For two people who disliked talking about ‘feelings’ stuff as much as my parents, they were pretty amazing. I didn’t tell them most of the things Mandy did or said; I knew they would freak out about us having sex, and they didn’t need to hear about Mandy’s abusive words and actions. Instead, I stuck to her blackmailing and belittling me. Afterwards, my mom hugged me tighter than ever before and my dad started crying. I’m pretty sure they could tell I was holding stuff back, but neither ever pushed. 

I had been so scared my parents would disown me for being gay, but my sexuality didn’t seem to matter after they knew I’d been manipulated because of it. They were both so angry that someone had hurt me that they blew past the fact it was a girl. Despite all of the heaviness, sobbing, and emotional exhaustion that the night brought, I fell asleep with a smile. 

I saw Dr. Manny nearly every week of my senior year and bimonthly the summer before I started college. We talked about a lot of things, including: what I might expect in my future relationships; how to cope in difficult situations without internalizing my negative thoughts; when the best time would be to open up to my friends. 

I left my last therapy session in a great headspace. It felt like I was healing; like I was getting back to the person I had been before my world imploded. I went through preseason at UVA on a high— playing some of the best soccer of my life, entertaining our new freshmen group, laughing with my roommate until the early morning hours— dealing with emotions in a healthy way. My smile reached my eyes again for the first time in years. My bad dreams had completely stopped. My first two weeks of classes went really well. 

I was happy.

So, naturally, that was when Mandy’s radar turned back on. Somehow, she must’ve been able to tell that I was enjoying life again. I got the text during halftime of our first away game. My team was beating UCLA 1-0 on their turf, I just had gotten my first start, our team dynamic felt magical, and a hot trainer girl had been eyeing me since warmups. 

I was really happy.

Then my phone buzzed.

(1) Text from: UNKNOWN NUMBER  
‘told u I would see u again.’

My blood ran cold. My heart stopped. My body felt numb. Everything was muted. I recognized that wording. And I knew immediately who it was.

I jerked up just in time to see familiar long dark hair swish around a corner and out of sight. 

We lost that day. Only one of UCLA’s goals was my fault, but it didn’t stop me from spiraling. I knew I should call my sister or Dr. Manny, should make an appointment with a school psychologist, should talk to my new friends about everything. But I didn’t. 

Instead, I came to a realization: Mandy texting me was all my fault. And to ensure it would never happen again, I had to stop feeling things. 

So that’s what I did.

::::::


	19. Depressed and Aroused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em's bedsheets get wet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad about all the heaviness and angst of the last few chapters. 
> 
> I hope the 1,450 words of porn below help y'all forgive me.
> 
> Enjoy!

:::::::

My dreams are horrible. 

Not because they’re scary, or painful, or heart-wrenchingly shitty.

No, tonight they’re awful because I’m reminded, yet again, of what I can’t have. 

I fall asleep to images of who I want the most. 

The girl who no longer loves me back.

:::::

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, ohhhhh,” Kelley moans, breath fogging up the glass, as I slowly tease at her entrance with my vibrator. “Please put it—ohhhhh god, do that again.”

I pull away completely but keep the hand that’s pinning her wrists up. “Who is in charge here?”

Kelley whimpers. “You. You are.”

“That’s right. And what does that mean, baby girl?”

Kelley whines and keens her hips back towards mine. I thrust my hips against her ass, hard. 

“What.” Smack. “Does.” Smack. “That.” Smack. “Mean?” Smack. 

The defender is a blubbering aroused mess now, but her yelps of pain quickly turn into content purrs as I lean down to kiss, suck, and lap at the abused flesh. 

(If she loves me slapping and licking her butt, I wonder how she’d feel about—no. It’s not the right time. Don’t get distracted by her gorgeous firm ass and how good it would look with my—no. No, Emily. Pay attention to the moment. And go fuck the living daylights out of her.)

When I get out of my own head, I realize Kelley is begging me, pleading for any kind of relief. 

“Okay, baby girl. Okay. I got you. I’ll make you feel so good now, okay?” I press a kiss between her shoulder blades then pull back. “I’m gonna remove my hand now, okay, but I want you to keep your wrists pinned up there for me. Can you do that?”

Kelley nods vigorously into the glass.

“Good,” I reply, releasing her wrists and moving to grip her hips in both of my hands. “Now,” I lick up the shell of her ear, “Are you ready for me?” She nods again. “Yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me?” Moan and more nodding. “Good.”

I land a hard blow to her ass, then quickly caress and soothe the red area. I bend down, leaving light kisses across the angry cheek. I graze it with the backs of my nails as I stand back up, then mold my body into hers. 

One hand moves to cup her breast, expertly rolling a nipple between the pads of my fingers, while the other slides around and down to feel her wetness. 

“Mm, so perfect, baby girl.” I pinch her nipple. “You’re doing so good, beautiful.” I slowly enter her with one digit, moaning quietly upon feeling the arousal. I leave my index finger unmoving, just barely inside her tight cunt, and switch sides with the other hand. I continue this, alternating affection between each breast every few minutes, leaving wet kisses across her back and shoulders. After the millionth whimper, I give in, pull my hands off, and spin Kelley around to face me. “Hands back up against the mirror.” I command, leaning down to suck a hickey into the other girl’s chest. 

She obliges.

(Such a good girl.)

I reward her with thrusting two fingers deep into her pussy, curling them and earning myself a long whine. I set a brutal pace with my hand, slowly sucking dark bruises across her chest  
all-the-while. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Kelley chants as her walls start to constrict around my digits. 

I pull out. “Don’t come until I tell you to.” With that, I work my fingers back in and continue the rough thrusts. 

“I need to, I need to, please Em, oh god, I’m gonna, please let me come, Em, please, I’m gonna, please!!!”

“No.” I pull away completely and move to sit on the edge of my bed. 

The sight in front of me is easily one of the hottest ones of my life. Kelley is leaning nearly her entire body weight against the mirror and panting desperately. The little cries slipping from her lips after being denied yet another orgasm nearly change my mind about teasing, but then she sags down even further. And I get a glimpse of the puffy, pink, absolutely ruined pussy. 

“I’m sorry, beautiful, but not yet. There’s no way I can give my good girl anything but the best climax of her life, and that means…teasing you just a little while longer.” I stand up and walk back to the mirror, taking her hand in mine. When she tries to move, her legs completely give out. I catch her just before she would’ve hit the ground. “Woah, baby girl. I like causing that perfect ass pain and all, but there’s a line.” 

Kelley doesn’t return my chuckle. Her eyes are glossed over and lids drooping. 

“Oh no you don’t.” I lift Kelley up into my arms and carry her over to my bed. Making sure she can remain sitting up, I fetch the glass of water from earlier and bring it to her lips. “Here you go, beautiful, that’s right. Take some slow sips for me.” 

Kelley drinks about half of the liquid before the alertness begins to return to her face. When she tries to talk, she just whimpers. Her hips buck up the slightest amount as if they’re signaling why she’s so affected (as if I didn’t already know). 

“Do you want to stop?” I murmur softly and kiss her forehead. “If you’re too spent, we can go to bed, beautiful. This is about making you feel good, remember? I just want to take care of my good girl tonight.”

She doesn’t even let me finish my sentence before she’s shaking her head rapidly back and forth. “No,” she rasps, then clears her throat. “Just please, let me come soon. I, I, I need it, need you, need to…need to come so bad, please, Em.”

A gentle smile graces my face as I nod. “Of course. I won’t tease you much longer, okay? I promise, I’m gonna make you feel so good in a few minutes.” At that, I shake my head and remove the tenderness from my voice. 

‘She wants to come?’ I think, ‘Well, then she’s gonna come better than ever before in her life.’

I pull her up from where she’s sitting on the bed and position her down to lay horizontally, center flush with the edge and feet resting on the floor. I move to kneel between her legs, just getting a whiff of her first. 

“You smell so good, baby girl. Fuck, is this all for me?”

Kelley nods and and whines loudly. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, beautiful, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take such good care of you tonight.”

I shift her thighs farther apart and lean in closer to her abused pussy. “Mmm,” I hum as I lightly press my lips to her clit for a moment. I pull away to shift farther down and blow hot air against her slit. My hands reach under to grab handfuls of her ass. 

“Fuuuuuck, fuck, me, Em, please, fuck meeeeeee…” Kelley’s breathy pleas are cut off with a groan as I lick up into her folds once. 

With a final satisfied grin, I’m back to my feet, shifting her again and sliding up to lay down fully. I press a kiss to the inside of her knee and make my way back up to hover over her. Kelley looks up at me with big pleading eyes. I make them close when our mouths connect in a hungry and passionate kiss. She moans into it and bucks her hips up into mine. 

“Uh-uh, baby girl. You do that one more time and I’m gonna have to tease you even longer. You want that?” She shakes her head back and forth. “Then no touching me, no touching yourself, and no moving until I let you. Understood?” I get a shuddering moan and a quick nod in reply. “Good.” I reattach my lips to the underside of her jaw, sucking lightly on the bruises I gave her earlier. I pepper small kisses across her chest next, leaning in briefly to swirl my tongue around each pert nipple, and scrape my teeth across her defined stomach, gently biting each individual ab muscle. My mouth makes it way down to her navel next, where I take my time sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. My thumbs comes up to rub circles into her hip bones. 

She doesn’t move once. She whines, and groans, and screamed a little when I bit down too hard on the flesh directly below her belly button, but she doesn’t move. Or touch herself. Or touch me. She stays as still as she possibly can, save for the occasional involuntary quiver. 

It’s in this moment I know: 

She’s ready for her reward.

I move my hands down and slide one through her wet folds, while the other goes to tease at her clit. I don’t know which feeling I love more.

::::::

I wake up in a cold sweat. I’ve soaked through my pillowcase and my underwear. Arousal and depression both hit my like jabs to the gut. I know which feeling I hate more. 

‘No feelings, Emily. No feeling anything.’

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I forgiven? No? Okay, fair enough. 
> 
> For real, though, guys: thank you for liking, commenting, kudosing, etc. on this fic -- I'm blown away by the reaction it's gotten so far!!! You're the best. <3


	20. Confusion and Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily needs coffee; Lindsey needs answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating the last two days, shit really hit the fan in my life. I won't go into details, but please know I had a good reason for ghosting y'all like that. 
> 
> Enjoy!

:::::::

Lindsey is simultaneously the best and worst friend a girl could ask for.

Earlier today, she barged into my house, made herself coffee, then plopped down on my couch. This was at, like, 6 AM…my brain doesn’t work at that hour. That is just a scientific fact. Everyone knows I can’t be held responsible for the actions of my non-caffeinated self.

“We need to talk.” (This is an ambush…on Sparta…am I a Sparta?)

“What?” (I wanna go back to sleepy-time.)

“We need to talk,” Lindsey rolls her eyes. “You and I.” (That’s a song, not an answer. Hit it, Gaga.)

I just blink at her. 

“God, Sonny, wake up! This is serious!” (She’s making the sounds but my brain can’t read them.)

“What?” (I wonder what Mrs. PacMan’s first name is…)

“We need to talk about yesterday!” (Liar. That’s another song. From ‘Cats.’)

“‘Mkay.” (No, from the ginger girl musical. What’s the deal with them, though? Cats? Why’re they so sassy?)

“I know why you were so upset after the flight yesterday.” (Vroom vroom, plane sounds.)

“‘Mkay.” (Do eyes have bats?)

“Sonny!!! Seriously!!! Tobin told me why you got so upset yesterday on the plane and didn’t answer your phone all day!!!” When I just stared back, Lindsey got aggravated. “Jesus Christ, Em, just drink this.” She thrusts the mug of coffee into my hands and guides it up to my mouth. Then she doesn’t let me stop until I’ve drank every last drop. On the bright side, I’m pretty awake now. On the down side, I’m also pretty nauseated. “Good, you’re no longer totally catatonic. Can we please talk about yesterday?”

Oh. Shit. I had actually managed to forget about that for a second. But now it’s all coming back, all the pain and stupid fucking feelings. Thanks a lot, Lindsey. 

“Why? It doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does, Sonny. I’m not really sure why, but I know you, and I can see you’re upset. Please just talk to me about this.”

I remain silent. I don’t want to talk about this, right now or ever.

“Please, Em, Tobin told me everything. You’re obviously in a really bad place, anyone who knows you can see that. Please just talk to me.”

“I can’t,” I whisper back. My fingernails are dug deep into my thigh now. One great way to keep from crying is to distract your brain with actual physical pain — the emotional crap quickly fades into the background. 

“Just tell me one thing, Sonny, okay? I know what Tobin said, but I’m still confused. When did you even become a ManU fan???” 

(Distraction is also a great way to, well, distract yourself. I’m throughly confused now, but at least my eyes are dry.)

“What?” 

Lindsey gives me a slightly exasperated look before continuing. “Tobin told me how upset you were about Man City winning yesterday, don’t pretend you don’t know! I mean, hell, I’m an Arsenal fan. So while I’m feeling a bit betrayed by your choice in favorite EPL teams, I understand how much your club losing can wreck a girl. Will you please just tell me when you became a Red Devils supporter so I can help?”

I’m genuinely speechless right now. 

My best friend tries again, more frustration in her voice now, “Please, Dasani, let me help you!!! How long ago did you make the switch to being a ManU fan?”

“I— um, never?”

“Huh?”

‘Shit. Now I have to make something up…why didn’t I just go along with the stupid ManU lie that Tobin told?!?!’

“Um, well, I, uh, you see— it was something different? On the plane?” I curse myself internally for how awful my attempt at nonchalance just was.

“What are you talking about??? So you’re not a ManU fan??? Why did Tobin lie to me??? What the hell’s going on??? And why—“ 

Lindsey’s still firing off rapid questions when I interrupt her, “Because Kelley has a girlfriend!!!”

(Well that shut her up. And made her look like a goldfish. 

My best friend just keeps opening and closing her mouth and blinking.)

“What?” She finally breathes out.

‘Up yours, Tobin,’ I think, grimacing. ‘You couldn’t have given me any warning about the ManU lie?!? Jesus fucking Chr—‘

“WHAT?!?!” Lindsey practically screams the word this time. 

“Shut up, you have to be quiet!!! It’s like six thirty in the fucking morning, Linds, I’m going to get evicted if my neighbors file another noise complaint!!!”

My best friend looks shocked, confused, and downright furious when she starts talking again (this time, thankfully, at a much lower volume). “Sorry, but…what the fuck?!?! What do you mean ‘Kelley has a girlfriend’??? She’s in love with you!”

“Not anymore, apparently,” I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I can blame her, though, I have put her through hell this past month.”

“Because you were hurting, too, Em!!! Don’t blame yourself for that, blame Mandy. She’s the one who hurt you, and hurt Kelley in the process. You two deserve happiness, deserve each other, don’t let that sack of shit dicks get inside your head again!”

“You’re wrong.” I meet my best friends gaze. Despite wanting to cry earlier, my emotions are all in check..now, I just feel numb. “Yesterday, Tobin told me how glad she was that Kelley and I had finally gotten together. She said that because she saw Kel happy…for the first time in a month, she was happy. Tobin even said she giggled. Wouldn’t say a word about why, was just glued to her phone. But don’t you get it, Linds?” The other girl stays quiet, just shakes her head ‘no’. “Kelley isn’t in love with me anymore. She realized what I’ve known all along: I’m too broken to love.” I see Lindsey go to interrupt me and quickly waive her off. “No, it’s true. And you were partially right before…because Kelley does deserve happiness. She deserves someone who can make her happy…not miserable, like I did.” My best friend tries to interject again, but I continue talking before she can. “Please don’t tell me I’m wrong about this. Or get all therapisty, saying things like that I’m just retreating into old behaviors to prevent further heartbreak. Okay? I’m not supposed to be happy, Linds. Kelley is. Kelley deserves to be. Kelley deserves to be with someone who can make her happy.”

My best friend wipes at her cheeks (when did she start crying???), walks to my door, and opens it. She turns back to look at me, fresh tears filling her eyes, “You’re wrong.” 

I start to refute the words but she shuts me up with her next sentence. 

“Kelley deserves you.”

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to fufill the humor and angst requirements somehow...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> And, as always, thank you for reading and reviewing :D


	21. Talking to Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em gets answers from the unlikeliest of places.

:::::::

‘Is it true?’

It’s been over a week since Tobin word-vomited all over that airplane, and the question has yet to be answered. I texted my captain three times (she didn’t know anything other than what she had already told me), my friends six (favorite exchange? Mal: “If you think Tobin should stop giving advice, please say ‘Aye.’” Mal, Sam, Rose, Linds, and me: “Aye. Fucking aye.”), and Christen once (she said she doesn’t know, but wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about it behind her friend’s back even if she did); I learned nothing new. 

It has been exhausting.

Life would be so much easier if I could turn my emotions off again, but it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be possible this time around. Between my therapist, my sister (Linds texted her after leaving my apartment last week), my friends, and myself, repression doesn’t seem realistic. 

Dr. K.B. (the Portland-based shrink I’ve had a few sessions with) has given me a lot to think about. She’s no Dr. Manny (then again, who is?!? Other than him, of course) but that doesn’t mean, occasional-cliche-aside, she isn’t good at her job. I walked into my first appointment stone-faced and fully prepared to bullshit my way through an hour; by the end, I was fetal on the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably. Dr. K.B. keeps telling me that feeling pain is what makes us human; “shutting all of one’s emotions up makes shells of brave men.” 

Emma gave me the exact opposite advice she had at the end of our junior year, when I told her I had gotten back together with Mandy. Back then, her response was fueled by anger and disappointment. Now, it’s coming from a place of understanding. After Lindsey texted her, my twin waited an hour before calling, “to make sure I would be helping the situation instead of hurting it.” Emma told me that I had suffered too much heartbreak at Mandy’s hands, and that by shutting down, I was allowing her to control my life all over again. Before we hung up, my twin made me swear I wouldn’t stop myself from feeling anything, whether that be happiness or heartbreak— “Some of them royally suck in the interim, but, eventually, emotions make things better.” 

Rose and Mal sent me a care package when I told them about Kelley seeing someone else. Mal contributed avocado stress balls and a gorgeous moleskin notebook (“so you don’t have to write on the backs of fliers or on the tiny hotel pads of paper.”) and Rose added an adult coloring book plus some boudoir photos of Wilma (“for the dark, lonely nights.”); Sam sent me the link to a subreddit she thought I’d like (“95% of the memes are very problematic, but there’s a few NSFW Sesame Street ones you’ll appreciate!”) and the Man United beanie she found at a yard sale. Caitlin, Ellie, and Raso have all been employing the age old annoy-her-into-talking-by-making-bad-dad-jokes-and-buying-fancy-coffee interrogation tactic the past week. And Lindsey? Well…believe it or not, she has mainly been giving me space. It’s so completely unlike her— and thus, the exact thing I need her to do. All of my friends have been amazingly supportive, to the point of being smothering; Lindsey has just been present. She’s a reminder that there are people in my life who will always be there.

The last person getting in the way of me repressing all my emotions is, well, me. It’s like my brain refuses to revert back to being a person sans-feelings now that it’s gotten a taste of them. When I told my friends about Mandy, when I showed them the letter, and when I talked to Tobin about both, I felt pain. But I also felt a little bit lighter, a little bit stronger. I felt a weight lifted off of my chest. And I don’t think I can put it back on again, not now that I know how freeing it is to feel. 

::::::

Alex didn’t exactly ask me politely to get in her car after the game. 

In fact, she just rolled her eyes and shot me exasperated look when I questioned her intent. 

(I probably should have thought for longer than two seconds before hopping in— after all, Alex did attempt sportsicular homicide last time she picked me up. And the eye daggers she shot me all throughout camp didn’t make a second car-related attempt seem out of the question. Combine all that with the residual hatred she felt towards me for the morning after the morning after (i.e. when she called to yell at me for breaking Kelley’s heart and my uncaffienated self basically told her to eat rocks), and…it doesn’t look like anything will be coming up Sonny tonight.)

After we’d been driving around in total silence for half an hour, Alex pulled into a dusty parking lot and turned to me. “I’m sorry.”

‘Is this some weird-ass murder ritual?’ I wonder, eyes going wide. ’Like, where you apologize before killing someone, and thus absolve your soul, or something like that???’ 

“I, uh,” Alex tries again, stuttering momentarily before gulping and fixing her gaze on my profile. 

I keep my head focused forward but nod to confirm I’m listening. 

“Um…okay, so, uh— I was a bitch to you the last month.”

“You think?!?” I can’t help but scoff. That is the understatement of the century. 

(Bad move. She’s mad.)

“LOOK, just, fucking…” Alex starts angrily before forcing her body to calm down. When she begins talking again, her voice is level and collected. “Last time I tried this, my apology was hollow…I was still really pissed off at you at the time. But I’ve owed you a sincere apology for awhile now. With you guys in town for the game, I figured tonight was the right moment. So…Sonny, I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I was so angry over the whole Kelley thing that I didn’t realize you were hurting as well. But after camp ended, I was forced to take a giant step back…and I felt awful. Because you were clearly struggling with shit, too, and I was so focused on Kelley’s pain that I didn’t let myself see it.” She pauses to turn the ignition off. “I’m really sorry I reacted so badly when I heard what happened between you and Kelley. And I’m sorry for making life difficult for you ever since. You didn’t deserve that.” 

We’re both silent for a few minutes, each just taking in the conversation. 

“Thank you, Alex,” I finally say, turning to look at her for the first time since getting in the car. 

I’m not exactly sure what else to say, and the forward picks up on that. 

“Okay, well, now that that’s over…do you want to talk about anything? I mean, you obviously don’t have to, I know I treated you like dirt—“

“It’s forgiven, Alex. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, I promise. And I actually do have a question for you, seeing as you’re Kelley’s best friend and would be the first person to know if she’s dating someone.”

She bites her lip but meets my gaze. Her expression is one of worry, pity, and resignation. She knows exactly what I’m going to ask before the words leave my mouth.

“Is it true?”

Alex just shifts her gaze down. 

It’s taken over a week to get it, but I finally have my answer. 

Kelley has moved on.

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, commenting, kudosing, etc. I love y'all and hope you enjoyed this chapter. <3


	22. Talking to Alex (and Tobin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Tobin are much louder than intended; Em cries.

:::::: 

“I don’t…um, I, uh…” Alex stutters as she tries to reassure me. 

(If I had just repressed my emotions like I wanted to, I wouldn’t be hysterically crying in her passenger seat right now…I can’t bear to feel this pain much longer.)

“I don’t think it’s serious.” 

Alex meant to the words to be comforting; I know that. Which is why I feel even worse when the only response I can give her is a sob. 

“I…I, I lost herrrr….” The strangled sounds coming out of my throat mangle my words, but the forward evidently still gets the gist of them.

“Oh, Em…I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but you deserved the truth. I’m sorry, Sonny.”

For the next ten minutes, the only noises filling the air are hiccups, wails, nose-blowing sounds, and the occasional whisper of, “I’m so sorry, Em.”

When I finally get myself calm enough to speak, my voice is raspy and defeated. “What’s her name? Where is she from? Is Kelley happy? Is Kelley over me?” 

Alex shakes her head, eyes closing tight. “Don’t think like that, Em. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“Ha!” The laugh comes out harsher than intended. “Me, driving myself crazy, future-tense? Please…I’m already there, Alex, and I don’t even care! I don’t care if I go fucking insane next, okay, please, just…” I choke on the last word and fresh tears begin to pour down my face. “I need to know.”

::::::

It takes me a long time to stop crying after that. 

Alex lets me sob into her shoulder after I’ve used up all the tissues. I get snot and eye boogers all over her sleeve, but, to her credit, the forward doesn’t pull away once. 

She also refuses to tell me anything further about my replacement (if I can even call it that…this new girl has done what I never could: love Kelley openly and freely. If anything, I was just the placeholder). Alex did say that Kelley isn’t over me; my heart soared for a split second before she added, “but she wants to be.” 

I don’t have any more tears left to cry— I’ve used every last one up. All I can do now is stare blankly out the window and feel my heart be split in two. 

Alex tries to get me talking a few times, but gives up when it becomes obvious I won’t respond. 

“Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?”

I just nod.

::::::

“Because she deserves to know the truth, Tobin!!! I know she’s been looking for an answer since you blurted out the Kelley dating thing on the plane, Linds told me she keeps bringing it up to her friends.” I can hear Alex’s whispered response from my bed; they think I’m asleep. “She asked me tonight, so I told her the truth. Keeping secrets would’ve only done more damage.”

“You don’t know that, Alex! Was clearing your conscience so important that you had to shred every last piece of her self-esteem?!?! You screwed up the last apology, you felt guilty about it, I get it. But was that really more important than Sonny having hope???”

“It was false hope, Tobin!!!” Both of their voices get louder from the doorway. “We both know she wouldn’t have stopped asking about Kelley’s dating life until someone told her. At least now she has a real answer, and heard it from someone who knows all the emotions involved. Would you have preferred it be someone who didn’t know their history? Or someone who was too close to KO, like Chris???”

(I force myself hold in the gasp at Alex’s last line so they don’t know realize I’m awake and listening. But shiiiit, my teammates are about to throw down. No one takes a shot as her girlfriend without feeling Tobin’s wrath— fuck…okay, we’re good, they assumed I’d just grunted in my sleep or something. Phew. My mind went back to the morning Sam kept startling CP into dropping her breakfast and I snorted before I could stop myself.)

“You’re Kelley’s best friend!!! How is Chris “too close” to this and you’re not?!?! You’re such a hypocrite, Alex.” 

“You know what, I may be Kelley’s best friend but that does NOT mean I agree with what she’s doing right now. It’s obvious to everyone but Kell that dating is a huge mistake. She met this girl, what, nine days ago?!? And decided to get over Em that very night?!?” Alex is growling now, her voice dripping with venom. The disagreement with Tobin and the frustration towards Kelley has combined to form pure rage. “She immediately jumped into dating someone else, won’t listen to her sister or friends when they say it’s too fast. I tried to say one thing a few days ago and she hung upon me. It’s like she has completely flipped her personality, gone under a spell, I mean, Kell’s taking every comment as an insult and completely closing herself off from everyone who loves her!!! It’s—“ Alex catches herself when her voice raises to a shout. She takes a deep breath to calm down. When she speaks again, her volume and tone have softened considerably. “This isn’t about Chris, though, you’re right. I shouldn’t have brought her into it. I just…as someone who cares about Sonny and Kelley, who knows their history, who understands the emotions involved, I thought it would be best for Em to hear the truth from me. I know you don’t agree, but I know that she needed an answer to her question. She deserves to know the truth.”

I hear a door close and silence follows. Assuming they’ve left the room, I roll over to lie on my back. 

They haven’t left. 

They’re both standing just inside the hotel room entryway now, wrapped up in a hug. I try to turn back over without them seeing me, but of course Alex’s teary gaze meets my own before I can. Tobin must feel her body tense in the hug because, a second later, two sets of eyes are on me.

“Shit…I, uh…we thought you were asleep, Sonny. I— did we just wake you? How much did you hear?” 

I give Alex a sad smile. She was honest with me; now, it’s only fair that I do the same. “All of it.”

“Ummmm…you want to talk about it, like, with us, now?” Upon seeing her guilty expression in the mirror, Tobin tries to school her face into returning to normal (it does not work).

“Not really. Or, at least, not yet…um, I, uh— I’ve cried enough tonight, I just want to go to bed.”

“Oh! Of course, Em.” Alex steps forward to give me an awkward hug before turning to the other forward. “I’ll see you guys in a few weeks. Tobs, I’m sorry I got mad at you. Sonny, if you ever want to talk, please know I’m here.” 

Tobin nods, back in her chill mindset. Alex closes the door softly on her way out.

A few minutes later, after we’ve both brushed our teeth and gotten ready to sleep, Tobin pauses in front of my bed. 

“You okay?” I yawn, snuggling deeper under the blankets. 

She looks down at her feet. “Yeah, just, uh…I wanted to make sure you were okay after hearing Al and I’s conversation. And with all the car answering part before it.”

“I’m not okay.” Her head shoots up immediately, concern written all over her face. “But there’s nothing I can do about it tonight. So let’s just go to sleep, okay? I really don’t want Lindsey getting mad at me again for almost making us miss another flight.”

Tobin laughs lightly before getting into bed and pulling her covers up. One hand goes up to turn off the light, but stops before actually flicking the switch off. She looks back over at me. “Hey, Sonny?”

“Yeah?” I mumble into my pillow.

“Please don’t give up hope yet.”

(Well, I was wrong. It turns out I did still have some tears left to cry.

These ones just feel a little lighter than before.)

::::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof...the angst just does not stop with this fic...
> 
> Sorry for another rough chapter. I hope y'all feel a little bit better now that some of last update's questions have been answered. And thank you for reading <3


	23. Facing Fears and No More Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em makes a decision.

::::::

Of all the conceivable things I had expected to spend my last free (pre-national team camp) day doing, listening to Alex Morgan sobbing apologies into the phone hadn't even made my Top 30.

It’s been two weeks since the Orlando game (AKA, the Car-And-Hotel-Room-Emotion-Fest-2019). Two weeks since Alex said that Kelley wasn’t over me, but wanted to be. Two weeks since I got confirmation that the love of my life was dating someone else. Two weeks since Tobin told me not to give up hope. Two weeks since I last cried. 

::::::

Alex started texting me the morning the team flew back to Portland, and she hasn’t stopped since. Her first few messages were short, reading “How are you?” or “Just wanted to check in!” The lengthier and more serious ones started a couple days later. That was also when I (along with my therapist) decided to divulge some of the backstory of my life. When I told Dr. K.B. everything Alex had said to me, both in her car and in the hotel room, my shrink’s immediate response was to ask how much information the forward had been privy to, re: my past. And when I told her that Alex didn’t know anything about Mandy, Dr. K.B. nodded and said, “How would you feel about changing that?”

(My answer…??? 

Really motherfucking nervous.)

Despite being absolutely terrified at the mere thought of telling the Mandy story again, I was also really proud of myself. With every person I confided in before, the weight on my chest had been lifted a small amount. And now that I was preparing to talk about my past with a person of my choosing (aka, someone who hadn’t found out by accident, either by my big mouth or forgetfulness), every step felt lighter and lighter. Dr. K.B. helped me come up with exactly what to say (I wasn’t comfortable sharing the entire letter, and she understood that). We decided that I would only tell Alex about the blackmail, manipulation, and heartbreak, or how that relationship still affected me today. I was a little worried that if I mentioned any details of abuse, or gave out any of Mandy’s information, the National Team would lose our upcoming matches…because our captain was arrested (what??? Look, Alex is a VERY loyal person, okay, and I’ve heard her say on multiple occasions that she would have no qualms about murdering anyone who hurt her friends. I don’t want to be the reason she goes to prison!!! And, besides, Emma already claimed the rights to killing or maiming Mandy; I’d never take that from her). 

Where was I…oh, yeah: Alex has been pretty amazing to me over the last two weeks. After Orlando, I knew that I could trust her with my past…and that I genuinely wanted to. 

So twenty minutes ago, I called her. 

I told Alex that I’d been blackmailed when I was younger; that a girl, M, found out about my sexuality and used it to manipulate me for years. That she not only controlled my life in high school, but that she has never truly stopped. I told Alex how I’d fallen in love with M and what had happened when she found out. I told her how I’ve never stopped believing some of the things M said to me, like that I was worthless or too broken to love, and how her voice haunted my dreams after Kelley and I slept together. I told Alex how hard I had tried to just be friends, how hard I had tried to push my feelings down, and how much it hurt when I realized Kelley had already fallen for me. I told Alex how much it killed me to have broken Kel’s heart. I told her about finally deciding to act on my feelings, and about being crushed all over again because I didn’t act soon enough. I told Alex about going back to therapy, and my conversations with Tobin and Linds, and that, despite by best efforts, I couldn’t turn off my emotions anymore. 

I told her that I was still completely, utterly, totally, 100%, head-over-heels in love with Kelley O’Hara. 

And that I was taking Tobin’s advice. 

Because no way in hell am I giving up. 

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update's so short!!! My computer deleted the two chapters I had planned to upload yesterday and today, so I had to rewrite this one to the best of my ability. I'm sorry it's not great, but I wanted to give y'all something. Longer (and hotter) update will be out tomorrow! Thanks :D


	24. Thorns and Royals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em has flashbacks; Lindsey has poor time-management skills; Kelley has arrived.

:::::::

It appears Lindsey still hasn’t forgiven me for being so late for the flight home from last camp.

I say this because she woke me up (before seven this morning) with a pillow to the face and a phone blaring Demi Lovato. 

“Sonny, I’m sorry, NOT SORRY,” she sang along, continuing to dance circles around my bed. 

(It took all my self-control not to tackle her to the ground and use the fluffy projectile she had just launched at me to snuff her out…wow, that got real dark, real fast, didn’t it? Zero to murder in 60 seconds.)

Lindsey hurried me through getting showered, dressed, packed, and caffeinated. At five minutes to 8:00, we were outside my apartment building and waiting for our Uber to arrive, my best friend tapping her foot impatiently, me, waiting for the coffee to fully kick in. Given how little sleeping (and how much thinking) I’ve been doing lately, I shouldn’t be surprised at where my mind takes me. 

::::::

The Uber driver gives us knowing looks in the rearview mirror the entire ride home, but both Kelley and I are too worked up to care. 

After what feels like an eternity (more so for my fellow defender than myself, given how well-practiced I am in the arts of teasing and car sex. When combining both, the trick is: little direct pressure, lots of stimulation. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kelley soaked through both her panties and leggings, and, consequently, I wouldn’t be surprised to get a $200 cleaning fee from Uber tomorrow), we arrive home.

The second the car slides to a stop in front of my building, I waste no time in jumping out and pulling Kelley right after me. We’re in the door and waiting for the elevator in moments. 

As soon as the lift doors close all the way, Kelley moves towards me, a hungry look in her eyes. She reaches up towards my neck, no doubt to pull me into a kiss, but I grab her hands before they can reach their destination and walk her two steps back until she hits the wall. I pin her wrists above us, loving the desperate whimper that falls from Kelley’s lips as a result. In an instant, I’m close enough to kiss her, our mouths millimeters apart. 

:::::

“Em!!!” Lindsey’s exasperated voice sliced through my fantasy and brought me crashing back down to Earth. “C’mon, get out of your head and into our car!!!” 

(The correct response to that probably would’ve included sincere apologies or offers to treat my upset friend to Starbucks. The incorrect one, AKA what my exhausted, horny, slap-happy self did, meant bursting into laughter at the song reference. I got a swift kick to the shin for my choice, as I was, and I quote, ‘being an asshole.’) 

Our entire trip to the airport passed in near silence. At one point, the driver tried to make small talk with Linds; he gave up and put the radio on after she responded to his questions solely with jabs at me (“How are you?” “I’d be better if my friend here wasn’t a ginormous tool”). 

The only positive thing about the quietness was that I could retreat back into my head quite easily. It also didn’t hurt that the car we were riding in was pretty old, creaky, and shaky— and, thus, felt exactly like the elevator in my building. 

::::::

“Patience, baby girl.” I murmur as she tries to connect our lips again. The shudder that rips through her body at the pet name is unbelievably hot and nearly enough for me to lose all composure. “We’re almost there, beautiful,” I pepper kisses along her jaw, “only,” I pull back just enough to see the ancient elevator’s signal indicating it’s current location, the fourth floor, then move back in to lightly bite her earlobe. “Less than three more floors until I can have you underneath me, until I can hear you properly scream my name. Mm, and taste you.” I pull away so I can see the effect my words are having. “I can’t wait to taste you, baby girl.”

At this, Kelley’s eyes shut and she lets out a long whine. I anticipate her legs giving out and release her wrists so I can pick her up and press her against the wall. Her head clunks into the side of the elevator. I pull back, momentarily distracted from my plan to paint her neck black and blue. I confirm she’s okay just as the lift grinds to a halt and the mechanical door opens. 

I’m not positive how I managed to get Kelley into my apartment unscathed (and still ridiculously wet — like, seriously, I can feel it through both her bottom layers and my tank top at this point), given I know I had to shoulder through the manual sliding door and somehow insert my key into the doorknob and turn it at the same time, but I do. 

Finally. Fucking finally. 

“You ready for this? Gonna make you see stars in a second. You sure you want to do this, beautiful?”

::::::

When my fantasy was interrupted a second time, this time by a punch to the gut, I got pretty annoyed. And justifiably so— I’d been so close to reliving an insanely hot part. 

“What, Lindsey?!?!” I snapped, eyes widening when my brain caught up to my mouth. “Shit, uh, sorry, dude. I— are we at the airport already?”

My best friend just sent me a ticked-off glare and opened her door. 

(That answered my question nicely.

Now for a not-quite-follow-up: how are my underwear already so wet???)

We checked our US Soccer bags and were in line for security before Lindsey spoke to me again. 

“Look, Sonny, I…I hate this. Being mad at you like this. It royally sucks. So can we, um,” she cleared her throat. “Can we just put the past behind us? And I’ll promise to talk to you about things instead of just getting annoyed? And you can try to meet me halfway and not zone out of every conversation. Can we agree to that? ‘Cuz I’m so tired of fighting with you.”

We got a lot of weird looks from other passengers after hugging in the middle of the TSA line. 

But it was so worth it.

Even if I had to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn. 

:::::

So, as it turns out, I didn’t need to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn. Or leave my apartment before 8. Or rush through the security and check-in processes out of fear I’d make us miss another flight. 

Nope, I didn’t have to do any of that. 

Because we don’t even have to BOARD until 1:15.

Yeah, you heard that right. 

Lindsey and I are going to spend the next four hours sitting in the North Terminal at PDX, bored out of our minds.

(‘Wait, fuck…fuck, why are they…why is Kelley…shit. I’m going to kill her…I can’t believe my best friend “forgot to mention” that the Utah players have a layover here before both our teams fly together to camp…or that I’m looking into the eyes of the love of my life for the first time in months.

‘I just wish I could see anything other than emptiness in them.’)

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted to see some smut and present-day KO; I obliged...
> 
> Next update will feature some interaction between our two favorite Georgia Peaches!
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!!! If not, feel free to come yell at me on IG, @soharaisendgame


	25. What Ifs and Hearts to Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preath is always there when you need them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since the last update!!! Life has been...to quote that bee dude from The Simpsons: "Aí..."
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy <3
> 
> (Also, if anyone ever wants to come talk/pester/yell at me, my tumblr is katbastard and my IG is @soharaisendgame!!!

:::::::

“Hey, Em.” 

Even though I can’t help but wish it was a different Stanford-striker-turned-National-Team-and-Utah-Royals-star greeting me, I still give her a wide smile in return. 

(Maybe my eyes wander momentarily around Christen’s shoulder to try and meet Kelley’s gaze again, but they snap back after I get a light elbow to the gut and hear a “cough cough Em cough cough.”)

My face flushes further when the green-eyed girl presses a hoodie into my hands. 

“Be subtle, wrap this around your waist. And don’t be embarrassed, Sonny, no one else has noticed anything.” 

It is at that exact moment that my brain registers the dampness between my legs. And fixates on the reason behind said arousal (in case it wasn’t obvious: it’s because my mind is still replaying the flashbacks from the cab ride). And alerts me that gray joggers were a BIG mistake today. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, Em, just tie this around your waist. Okay?” 

(Whenever people tell me not to be embarrassed, I automatically get wayyyyy more embarrassed than I would have otherwise. It’s like saying, “Hey, don’t start choking or anything, but that piece of food you just swallowed was way too big, and you’re gonna die if that’s not removed quickly.”

Hearing those words will just make me panic and choke harder. Or, in this case, let out a small squeak and— without a trace of calmness or subtlety— pull the offered sweatshirt around my ass and triple-knot it.)

“Good,” Chris says, ignoring the look of mortification on my face after I’ve secured her jacket. “Now, how about I treat you to a cup of coffee so we can chat?”

::::::

Sitting at Starbucks and waiting for Christen Press to walk back over with our drinks is exactly as awkward as you’d expect it to be. 

I’m getting ready to bail and Uber home (Jill would definitely understand) when Chris comes back to our table and hands me my machiatto. We both sip in silence, evidently each hoping the other will break the tension first. 

After a few minutes, I give in— I can’t take the awkwardness any longer. 

“So, um, what did you, uh…what did you want to talk about?” I cringe at my tone. 

“Kelley.” 

(Say what you will about her, but Christen sure as fuck doesn’t beat around the bush.)

I choke on my coffee. 

“Uhhhh, well, I, uh, well, um—” I stutter before falling quiet.

Chris appears to have expected my reaction, because she bulldozes ahead without giving me a chance to form a coherent response. 

“Scratch that. Do you know the story of how Tobin and I got together?” 

::::::

Hearing Christen recount her entire history with Tobin was weird. 

For one, I was still a bit shocked that the forward was talking to me at all, given how close she is with Kelley. Even taking into account the words Alex uttered when she was talking about how KO was pushing away her family and best friends…it was still hard for me understand how Chris could be so kind to me— the person that caused so much pain to someone she loves. But I pushed all that confusion into the back of my mind once Christen started talking. 

The second reason hearing Preath’s backstory was weird was because of how there were simultaneously a lot of parts I could relate to and then just as many that I could only feel a negative connection towards. When Christen was talking about how long it had taken for her and Tobin to get their acts together and realize their feelings, I couldn’t help but smile. When she told me about how they kept missing moments due to obliviousness or denial, all I could think was: ‘Relatable content.’ And when I heard about how many times they both told themselves, “Don’t lose your best friend over this. You can never tell her how you feel. It’s just a crush. Don’t screw up a great friendship over a crush,” I felt like hanging a sign over my torso, reading: ME AF.

But for every relatable moment in her story, there was another moment where I hated how horrible I had acted in similar situations in comparison. When Chris told me how she had known she felt more than platonic-type things within the first few weeks of meeting Tobs, I cringed internally. 

(Because it took me years and the destruction of two hearts to realize I loved Kelley.)

When Chris recounted the morning after she and Tobin slept together the first time, I felt like I was going to throw up.

(Because unlike their cute coffee-in-bed, watching-the-sunset moment, I saw cleat marks and barrel-rolled into my closet, wrecking the best girl in the entire world.)

And when I heard about how Tobin had confessed her feelings for the first time, my vision swam with tears. 

(Because I was the idiot who pushed Kelley into the arms of someone else by not realizing I was in love with her sooner. Because I was the one that was too scared to emote again. Because I had never even given her the choice by telling her how I feel.)

:::::

It’s hours later, when our plane is getting ready to land, that I get the idea. 

There’s a million reasons why I shouldn’t go through with Operation Emotion: fucking up team dynamics, pushing her further away, ruining relationships with mutual friends, appearing selfish, etc, etc, etc. 

Believe it or not, it’s actually Tobin that convinces me to go through with my plan. 

(“I mean, you really have nothing to lose, right?”

Ouch…but…true.)

So I wrote the note and passed it to Christen for delivery. I only have to meet Kelley’s eyes again for an instant to know it’s the right thing to do. Our plane touches down. Her gaze is still empty.

It’s time to show her my cards. 

Or, more specifically, my Queen of Hearts. 

On the back of a cheap plastic playing card (whose deck I bought in the airport, shoutout to Lindsey for making me arrive five hours early for my flight and leading me to boredom browse in a duty-free store), I’ve written the words: 

‘Kelley,

I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. 

I love you. 

Em.’

::::::

Christen delivers it to her room later that night. 

I don’t think anyone could predict what happened next. 

‘Because, like…what the fuck was that?!? Am I dreaming???’

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all liked this chapter! It's not my best, but it's much better than the previous versions I wrote :p 
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who commented on my last update. Your words meant more than you'll ever know. 
> 
> This one's for you.


	26. Dare to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose would make a terrible game-show host; Lindsey reveals one of Em's secrets; Sam and Mal have different experiences with 'butt stuff'; Em hurts her thumb.

:::::::

I spend my first night back at camp laughing and playing games with my friends. 

I have no idea that, eight hours from now, I’m going to be at the airport, barefoot and brokenhearted, waiting to board my red-eye back to Portland. 

Or that, five hours from now, I’m going to be having the worst panic attacks of my entire life and gasping out her name.

Or that, three hours from now, I’m going to see something that will shatter me to my core.

Or that, an hour and a half from now, I’m going to be writing a journal entry about the love of my life.

No, I don’t know any of that yet.

Right now, all I know is that Rose is really bad at coming up with ‘Never Have I Ever Questions.’

:::::::

“…gone four hours without looking at a dog.” 

The room is silent for a moment before the boos break out.

Sam shakes her head, “I love you, Rose, but that was horrible. The whole point is to make everyone else drink…which is why MY Never Have I Ever is…I’ve never been short. So, hah.”

Mal and Rose both roll their eyes and take a shot of sparkling cider.

(What?? It was the best we could do given Dawn’s strict alcohol ban during National Team camps. Also, I have to say…the cashier at Target was super judgy when I laid the ten pairs of black joggers and case of Martinelli’s on the counter.)

Next up is Mal. She quickly rebuffs Sam’s claim with one of her own: “This game is about making people drink AND admit all their dirty secrets!!! So…” She pauses to survey the room before continuing. “Never Have I Ever done butt stuff.”

Sam drinks immediately (“what? I’m married. Of course we’ve tried it.”) and I follow when Mal clarifies (“giving or receiving”). 

I take an shot at Lindsey’s, “Never Have I Ever had sex with a girl,” and all four of my friends do the same when I counter about fucking a dude. Rose (and, surprisingly, Mal) drinks to her own prompt of, ‘Never Have I Ever written a song about my dog.’

Then I get up to pee.

(Big mistake. I should’ve held it.)

I don’t realize until I’ve gone for the second time that I’ve just drunk on all of my friend’s responses. I’m a little slower on the uptake tonight, my mind still processing today’s events.

“Wait…you guys made a pact while I was in the bathroom, didn’t you? You’re all totally trying to get me to admit to kinky stuff, wow…”

“It was Lindsey’s idea.”

“Rose!!!” My best friend groans. “You weren’t supposed to tell her that!!!”

She just shrugs and takes her turn, actually playing along this time. “Never Have I Ever done it in a car.”

Mal, Lindsey, and I all drink at that. 

“Lucky bastards. Pat and I are both too big to do anything in a car. We always have to run into a Dunkin bathroom instead.” 

“Ewwww…Dunkin sucks.”

Sam sticks her tongue out at me before getting that evil glint in her eye.“Never Have I Ever had sex with a teammate.” She laughs when I roll my eyes and take a sip.

“Never Have I Ever tried bondage.” 

“E tu, Brute?!?” I flip Mal off before chugging the rest of the Sparkling Cider bottle. 

My best friend passes me another one before taking her turn. “Never Have I Ever…hmmm…what’s a good one…ooh, I’ve got it!” Lindsey pauses to smirk right at me. “Never Have I Ever liked being called P—“

I’ve just finished uncorking the new bottle when my blood runs cold. The realization of what Lindsey is about to say hits me all too slowly. My brain is yelling for my voicebox to say anything to prevent my secret from being spilled, screaming for my hand to move and clap itself over her lips.

Instead, I dive across the room at my best friend and jam my thumb on the bedpost. 

(Luckily, it’s enough of a surprise that the words catch in her mouth just as I’m able to find mine.)

“NO!!! LINDSEY!!!! DO NOT TELL THEM THAT!!!!!” 

My best friend snorts and leaps to her feet, repeating her earlier words through gasps of laughter. “She…she…likes…to be…called P—“

I hurl a pillow at her face but she ducks just in time. We’re now running in circles around the hotel room, her trying to reveal my Domme name, me trying to mortally injure my best friend. Mal, Sam, and Rose are all cheering the other girl on now, evidently ecstatic to hear the secret. 

“Rose, you’d like this!!!” Lindsey tries to fake me out but, ever the defender, I sense her movement and trap her in the corner instead. As I close in, she breathes in deeply, then exhales her intended speech: “Shehasacollarbutbnotforadogitsays’PropertyofPapíandIfounditinherclos— oomph, OW!!!”

:::::

Our group made the mutual decision to switch Truth or Dare after I tackled my best friend into the wall and bruised her tailbone. 

(She was totally asking for it, though, so I don’t even feel sorry for her.)

After 20 minutes of stupid answers, including Sam daring us all individually to order her a pizza (side note: who knew you could even do that?!?! It’s a move of pure genius, honestly), we’re getting ready to call it a night. We all have practice early tomorrow, after all. 

Mal goes next (she dares Lindsey to lick a wall but gets grossed out when she actually does it— lame), then Rose is up with the last question of the game. 

“Hmmmm…I choose….” She swivels her body around to inspect all of us, hand coming up to stroke her chin and giving her that deep-in-thought-shrink-or-private-eye look, before her eyes zero in on me. She shifts to face me directly, then, as if she’s just wondering aloud, says “Sonny…truth or dare?”

I roll my eyes in response. 

(What? All of her previous questions and answers have been PG-rated, with the exception of the car sex one, so it’s not like I’ll be asked anything good. I might as well go with:)

“Dare.”

‘Oh no…why is she smiling like that…?!?!’ I think to myself, eyes going wide. ‘Something’s about to happen…shit, what’s about to happen?!?!?’ 

Rose puts me out of my internal misery (momentarily, at least) by telling me my dare. 

“Who are you and what have you done to our horrible-question-asking little furry?!?” Mal breaks the silence.

Lindsey (god bless her) redirects the attention immediately off from me upon hearing our friend’s “burn.” 

“Okay, NO…for the last time, the terms ‘furry’ and ‘animal lover’ are not the same thing. I’m super uncomfortable right now, dude…it’s not called an ‘Animal Lover’s Convention’ for a reason, think about that.”

It takes awhile for us to stop laughing after that, and even longer for Mal’s cheeks to return to their normal hue. 

(I almost make it out the door before my friends remember I haven’t completed my dare. 

Almost.)

“Noooo, uh-uh, Sonny, get back in here, you still have to—“

Rose interrupts Lindsey, “Look, what you wrote on that playing card was cute as hell, but Kelley’s going to need more information. And we know you have a hard time sometimes, y’know, finding your words, and whatnot, in the moment, so…you have to complete my dare. Now. Use the notebook Mal gave you, take your time, and have everything ready when you need it. Okay?”

(Quick question: how is it possible for someone to love and hate their friends so much at the same time?!?! Like…I honestly don’t know which I want to do more, wrap my hands around her throat or wrap her body up in a hug…)

“So, I’ll repeat: I, Rose Lavelle, dare you, Emily Sonnett, to put So’Hara’s story into words.”

I’m a competitive bitch, and a newfound (cautiously) hopeful romantic, so…

“Okay.”

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update for y'all, because your response to the last chapter was so amazing!!! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3


	27. Kelley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em journals about her love.

:::::::

It was not even ten minutes after I arrived at my very first National Team camp that my eyes met Kelley’s for the first time. 

My first thought, ‘Fuck, she’s so hot.’

My second thought, ‘Wait why is she running at me OH NO—‘

::::::

By the end of that camp, I had made several lifelong friendships. 

The first was with my roommate, Lindsey Horan, whose career I’d been following for years. We bonded over our mutual love for avocado toast and rap music. After team dinner the first night, we stayed up until 2 AM trading stories; I was curious about the professional soccer player lifestyle, and she wanted to hear more about college, since she’d never experienced it. 

The second was Samantha Mewis, who saw I didn’t have a passing partner for the first drill and filled the position without another thought. Later that day, in the weight room, she did the same thing; I felt more than a little bad when my joke about heavy balls caused her to snort and nearly concuss herself, but Sam just waved my apology off. Dawn still issued me a light reprimand, but, after that moment, we were bonded. For the rest of camp, all I had to do was lock eyes with her and smirk slightly, and Sam would lose it. 

The third person who I felt I’d formed a lasting bond with was the same girl who jumped into my arms before even saying hello. Kelley made me laugh, think, work harder, play better. From that first moment, we got along like old friends. Here I was, this college kid with no experience, plopped down amidst World Cup champions, and she never treated me like anything less than an equal. Two weeks after we met, we were saying goodbye— with the promise to text until next camp and the knowledge that a great friendship had just begun. Kelley sent me a message as my flight was boarding: 

‘Bye, Em!!! I miss you already.’

I grinned so hard I scared the toddler standing in line in front of me. 

It was worth it.

::::::

It took me several months to realize that I had a crush on Kelley. I was in the middle of the dance floor at a club near UVA, a gorgeous girl grinding on and flirting with me. My body was unresponsive, my mind still focused on the text I’d gotten earlier in the day from a certain freckled defender. I was scanning my brain, trying to think of the next time we’d be able to FaceTime, when the revelation hit me.

‘Oh.’ 

I threw the rest of my drink back and forced my head to clear of anything not currently happening. 

Half an hour later, I was back at my place with the dance floor hottie underneath me, moaning my name. 

And I was numb again. 

:::::::

For years after that night, I pushed down all non-platonic feelings I had towards Kelley. It got to the point where I wasn’t even conscious of the repression. After a few weeks, I genuinely believed my crush had gone away. On the outside, I was carefree, outgoing, sassy…happy…but on the inside, I was still under Mandy’s spell. Since that game freshman year, when I realized I could never allow myself to be happy again lest my ex return, I had been numb. I didn’t allow myself to feel things, and if one emotion got through the wall, I’d beat myself up for weeks. 

And the forced numbness didn’t just affect my emotions, it numbed my ability to recognize other people’s, too. So even though her feelings were obvious to everyone else around us, I had no idea Kelley was in love with me. I had no idea that, the morning after I fucked her in that bar bathroom, I’d be breaking her heart, because I didn’t know I had it to begin with. 

Sometime during our night together, something in me shifted. I was still so deep in denial about my own feelings that I believed them to be nonexistent, but…I actually felt happy. Being with Kelley, making her feel so good, taking care of my good baby girl, all of that changed my brain. Where there was always fog, some light came through. I didn’t notice it until long after I had panicked and shut down, but Kelley made me feel an emotion I had spent a decade avoiding: happiness. 

::::::

In my Mandy letter, the final lines were: 

— ‘But here’s the thing: I’ve gone to therapy, I’ve gotten to the point where I can acknowledge that she abused me (emotionally and otherwise), I’ve come out publicly, and…none of that even matters. I know if she ever came back, she at least wouldn’t having my being gay as a source of blackmail. That brings me comfort until I realize she’d just find new ammunition.

Eight years have passed since she left, and I still wonder what it was about me that made her choose me. There are times, way too many times, when I lie awake and come to the realization that some amount of what she said has to be true. Maybe I’m not lazy, maybe I’m good for things other than sex, but I’ll still never be enough. I’ll still be too broken to love.

Last night, after telling my friends just a minuscule amount of information about Mandy, I had that big moment of realization that Rose was talking about.

I realized that, despite my best efforts, I’ve fallen in head over heels in love with Kelley O’Hara.

And realized that, no matter what, I can never act on those emotions or tell her how I feel.

“You deserve better, better, better than me; Might be what you want, but I’m not what you need.”’ —

And I finished my piece about myself with a similar message: 

— ‘Instead, I came to a realization: Mandy texting me was all my fault. And to ensure it would never happen again, I had to stop feeling things.

So that’s what I did.’ —

But unlike the last two journal entries I’ve written, this one is going to have a happy ending. 

Because now, here, in writing, I’m promising this: 

1\. I will allow myself to feel things. 

2\. If I feel myself slipping back into my bad mindset, I’ll call my sister, friends, or shrink immediately. 

3\. By midnight tonight, I will finish the letter I started writing with Alex and Tobin’s help earlier; I will print out a copy of all three journal entries; and I will tell Kelley Maureen O’Hara that I’m completely, utterly, totally, 100% in love with her. 

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys...wow, it's been awhile. I'm really sorry for disappearing- my life has been a shitshow since I last posted. My computer crashed and erased six complete chapters I was about to post, I fractured my finger, my manager fired someone and needed me to take all his shifts, I had the flu for three weeks, and, last but certainly not least, my heart was fucking shattered by the girl I was seeing. 
> 
> All that being said...I really missed writing this fic and talking with you guys, and hope y'all can forgive me for the cliffhanger!!!


	28. Panic Attacks and Demons From The Past: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this was worth the wait...

:::::::

Standing in front of Kelley’s hotel room door, clutching copies of all three letters, I realize that I’ve never felt so vulnerable. 

I allow myself another moment to breathe before pressing my knuckles to the wood and knocking soundly. 

I hear footsteps from within the room, hear them getting louder, and I brace myself to lock eyes with the love of my life. 

The door opens. My lungs suck in air. Both our eyes go wide. 

I’m fixed in place, frozen to the spot. My mouth is opening and closing like a fish, words failing me completely. I just stare at her. 

It takes Tobin snapping her fingers in front of my face thrice for me to snap out my trance. 

“Hey, Sonny…come on in.”

:::::::

Christen showed up within two minutes of my arriving at Tobin and Kelley’s hotel room (I suspect her girlfriend sent an SOS text right away, immediately concerned at my behavior)…that was five minutes ago, and I have yet to say a thing. Chris and Tobs sensed my inner turmoil and started talking. They’ve been pausing every few seconds to send me a smile or attempt to include me in their conversation. 

“I’m not telling you what your birthday surprise is, babe.” Tobin sends her girlfriend a lopsided grin and me a conspiratorial wink.

“There’s still plenty of time, I’m going to pry it out of you! We both know you’re horrible at keeping secrets, remember when—“

I interrupt Christen, “I’VE GOT THE WORDS!!!”

And I thrust the papers I’ve been holding at them, swallowing once before continuing my (unexpectedly loud) declaration: “READ THEM.”

::::::

Now that I’ve had a few minutes to process everything that’s just happened, I’m calm again. Watching them both read the letters, one for the first time…a little bit more weight lifts from my chest. And since I’ve edited them and removed a few details (per Rose’s suggestion: “anyone who loves you as much as Kelley does WILL murder a person who caused you this much harm. Make sure she can’t figure out who it is, you don’t want her going to jail for protecting you.”), it’s like both of my teammates are seeing the letters for the first time. 

“I’m gonna open the window. Do you either of you want a tissue while I’m up?” 

I shake my head with a smile, “No, but thanks, Tobs.” 

“Can you grab me one?” Chris wipes at her eyes and hands the papers back to me.

Tobin grunts in acknowledgement (or possibly exertion— the window got stuck halfway up) and continues pushing at the frame. After a minute, she gives up and disappears to the bathroom. 

“Thank you for opening up, Em. Reading these letters, hearing about this girl…I feel like I finally see all of you. From the beginning, there’s always seemed to be something holding you back. When you didn’t think anyone was watching, when you made a mistake during a game, I would see this…this ‘darkness,’ surrounding you. It was like all the joy in your body disappeared for a few seconds. Or like you slipped up momentarily and let your usual happy persona slide…does that makes sense?” Christen looks at me questioningly. 

I nod and clear my throat, “Yeah, it, uh…it definitely does.”

Christen’s phone chirps from across the room. Before she can move to grab it, Tobin is there, handing it to her along with a few tissues. 

“I second what Chris said. I know we’ve already talked about this, but I just wanted to tell you again that I’m really glad you’re opening up.” 

I grin at my captain. “Thanks, Tobs—“

This time, Christen is the one interrupting (and, this time, it’s with a loud gasp instead of a yelled demand). 

Tobin is next to her girlfriend in seconds, looking over Chris’s shoulder at whatever text has her so shocked. 

When Tobin looks up at me, her expression pensive and worried, I decide to quickly excuse myself to the bathroom. Whatever the news is, I’m sure I won’t like it…I might as well empty my bladder now, lest the shock make this whole situation any worse. 

::::::

“Okay,” I start talking as soon as I’m back in the room. “So, what’s going on, Chris?”

“Uh,” The green-eyed girl has a silent conversation with Tobin before looking back towards me. “Kelley just…texted me back?”

I feel my heart beginning to drop in my chest, “And…? What did she say?” 

This time it’s Tobin who answers me. “She’s on a date, Em.” 

I swallow and close my eyes. “With?”

“Her girlfriend…”

I feel the pressure start to build. I need to sit down. Tobin is one step ahead of me; she guides me to the bed and immediately positions my arms on top of my head. The fog that had been beginning to fill my head disappears more and more with every deep breath I take. 

When I open my eyes again a few minutes later, my vision is blurry with tears. 

(I hadn’t realized I was crying until now.

Fuck.)

“So, what did her text say, exactly?” 

Christen purses her lips. “Why?”

“Because I need to hear it.” 

She’s quiet for a moment, then nods. “Okay.” 

She passes me her phone. 

(1) Text from: Kelley O’Hara:  
“On a date, be back soon.”

I read the message a few times before handing the cell back to Christen. “Okay.”

Silence takes over the room for a few moments before Tobin breaks it. “You should still tell her how you feel.” 

“I know.” 

“Are you going to?” 

“I don’t know.”

::::::

We all sit there quietly for a couple minutes, each of us deep in thought. 

This time it’s Christen who breaks the silence. “Fuck this, I’m calling her.”

(What???)

“What???” Tobin echoes exactly what I was thinking. “Hang up, Chris!!!” 

“Look,” The green-eyed forward fixes me with a determined gaze. “If I don’t do this, Kelley might bring her girlfriend up here, or wait another hour before coming back. Em doesn’t need another minute to keep second-guessing herself, not when she’s planned this reveal out so carefully. You don’t deserve to stay in this limbo, Sonny, and you know that. You said so in your letter, you promised you’d tell Kelley how you feel before midnight tonight. Push aside that text, push away any doubts, and do this for yourself.” I open my mouth to speak but Chris just keeps bulldozing through. “There’s always going to be a reason not to do something, or say something. Always. You can spend your entire life imagining the ‘what-ifs’ or—“ She raises the phone to her ear. “You can act.” 

In the silence of the room, I hear the faint sound of Christen’s line connecting. 

And then, through the open window, I hear Kelley’s ringtone. 

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof.


	29. Panic Attacks and Demons From The Past: Part Two

::::::

I beat Tobin and Christen to the window.

I really wish I hadn’t. 

I wish that, instead sprinting there, I had run back to my room and buried myself under the covers. Because maybe then I could’ve saved myself from seeing what I’m seeing. 

Or, rather, who, I’m seeing. 

(I think I’m going to be sick.) 

Through the open window, I watch as the love of my life leans up and connects her lips with another woman. I shut my eyes, tight, trying desperately to get rid of the image that’s now burned in my mind: Kelley O’Hara kissing a dark-haired stranger. I force them back open, blinking repeatedly, and keep my eyes fixed on a spot on the pavement below, a few feet away from the…from the happy couple. 

Fresh tears burn at my eyes as I fight to keep them from falling. 

‘Because if I start to cry, it’ll mean that this is all actually happening. If I don’t let them fall, if I stop them right now, maybe it’ll be like this never even occurred…it’ll be like I never actually had to see Kelley with her arms around someone else.’

Christen is talking at lightspeed, no doubt trying to convince me that this shouldn’t change my mind, or that she’s sorry, or that Kelley is still crazy about me (even though she’s dating someone else, kissing someone else, loving someone else). But it doesn’t matter regardless, because I hear none of it.

Tobin steps in front of me a second after the first tear falls. I know she’s trying to create a barrier between me and the window, know she doesn’t want me to have to witness them any further…but I need to. Because I hurt Kelley first, so I deserve this pain.

I push my captain to the side just in time to see their happy faces break apart and turn towards the hotel. Then my line of sight is blocked again…leaving me to process what I just saw.

(My head is spinning, my lungs are seizing, my chest is tight.)

‘This can’t be real. It’s not real. It can’t be, it’s just my eyes were playing tricks, I was projecting, no, NO, this is not happening, this can’t be happening, this—‘

Then I hear it. And everything just stops. 

“What?” I hear myself whisper to Christen. “What did you just say?”

Tobin whirls around to face her girlfriend, her normally chill expression replaced by one of sheer panic. “No…it’s not…fuck, no, no, no, say it’s not, please.” 

Christen looks between us, confusion evident in her features. “I…I said that Kelley still loves you, that—“ 

“No, babe, repeat what you said about her girlfriend. Do it. Now!!!” 

“What’s going on, Tobin, I don’t understand, why—“

“CHRIS!!! THIS IS IMPORTANT!!!” Tobin’s voice is louder and more urgent now. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?”

“What the hell is going on?!?! Shit, Em, are you okay???” 

The whooshing sound in my ears increases, but I can still hear Tobin yelling. “CHRIS!!! LOOK AT ME!!! DID YOU—“ her voice breaks and, when she speaks again, I can barely make out the words. Because now, I can feel her panic, now, I can hear the agony in her voice. Because even with the spots filling my vision, I know she’s crying because of the hitch in her breath…I know she’s crying because I am, too. “Chris…did you just say ‘Mandy’?”

And then everything goes black. 

::::::

“Em, breathe for me, ple—“

::::::

“You’re safe, I’ve got you, Em, stay awake—“

::::::

“Her name wasn’t in the letter, fuck, Sonny are you—“

::::::

“…so, so sorry…”

:::::::

“…can’t believe this fucking happened…”

:::::::

“…get her in here, now…”

:::::::

“Em!!!”

“Sonny!?!”

“Breathe, Em, please!!!” 

:::::::

I don’t know how long I’m out. Or why my clothes are soaking wet. Or when my friends started whispering about me from their perch on the bed. Or what the object Dawn is holding in front of my nose is. 

(It seems like I don’t really know much of anything these days, though, doesn’t it…fuck…)

My brain seems to be missing some information, but my heart can at least answer its biggest question:

Was that real? 

…yes. 

::::::

My brain reboots as my lungs finally fill themselves again. 

I still don’t know the answers to most of my internal questions. But…I do know that the flip-flops next to me on the floor are Tobin’s…and that we have the same shoe size…and that I’m going to lose it if someone asks me one more time if I’m all right.

I need to go. 

So, I do.

The element of surprise and Dawn’s conditioning sessions are responsible for getting me all the way to the stairwell before anyone has time to react. Muscle memory takes me down the flight to the lobby and then I switch into a full-out sprint. 

My chest is heaving, heart is pounding, eyes are locked on the goal. For a second, my mind draws the obvious parallel to a soccer game. But there is no big white net ahead of me now, no victory in sight. All I see is bright yellow, all I know is a dull ache where my heart used to be. 

As if it by fate, the cab is idling not ten feet from where I watched…

(No. No. No.

Stop it.)

I blink away my tears and give the driver the first address I can think of. 

I pretend not to see my teammates spilling out of the lobby door as we speed off.

::::::

The front desk lady is much more concerned at my appearance than the cabbie was. But when I pull out my credit card and tell her, “Money doesn’t matter, just book it,” she gets over her worry pretty quick. 

(It’s all an act, people caring is just an act. It’s all fake, nothing is real, everything is garbage. Life isn’t worth this.)

::::::

Going through the desolate security process, I realize I’ve forgotten Tobin’s flip-flops in the car. 

It’s far too late to turn back now, so instead I walk, barefoot and brokenhearted, right on through the scanner…and towards the gate listed on my ticket. 

I’m numb again. Empty, again. 

Broken.

But at least I’m going home. 

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For whatever it's worth...I'm sorry.


	30. (Not) Talking to Christen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em's friends try and help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to Error 404, whose mind came up with an “insane scenario” after Chapter 21..a scenario that turned out to be 100% right. I’ve had the Mandy plot twist planned for awhile (the dialogue and aftermath came to me, fully-formed, while I was writing Chapter Six); cliche or not, kudos to those who figured it out ahead of time!!!!!
> 
> (Also, re: last chapter’s stab to the gut…sorry bout dat. It'll get better, I promise <3)

::::::

Two weeks.

Two fucking weeks.

I’m in so much pain. 

I should’ve listened to her. 

I should never have talked about it, never should have tried to heal. 

“YOU’RE TOO BROKEN TO LOVE!!!” The yell echoes within my apartment, the sound amplifying when the plate I’ve just thrown shatters into a million pieces. 

I probably should've stopped screaming, crying, and breaking dishes when the pounding started on my door. 

But to do so would mean I gave a fuck. And I have a pretty bitter taste in my mouth from the last time I did that. So:

“NO FEELING, EMILY!!!” 

Smash.

“Sonny! Let me in! Please!” I scoff at my former best friend’s voice and wipe at my snot with the back of my hand. I’m not surprised that it comes back bloody. Getting into a bar fight earlier had been an appetizer to tonight’s main course of destroying everything in my home and screaming until my voice gives out. 

“Em! Open the door, please!” I wasn’t surprised to hear Lindsey knocking, given she’s been doing it a half dozen times a day now, but hearing Rose makes me pause. 

‘Should I…no. No. Fuck that. Fuck everything.’

I hoist my Cuisinart off the shelf next and hurl it against the floor, watching as it breaks into pieces at my feet. I sniff, coughing when I inhale some fresh blood, before reaching up for the lid. I feel nothing when I see the broken tiles and cracked pot that have joined the others. Using the Cuisinart lid as a frisbee, I make another large hole in my wall.

“Sonny! Please!” 

(Tobin now, too? She’s sent me apology texts every day for the first week before I got annoyed and hurled my phone out the window. That was actually what started my plan for total destruction. So, kudos, Tobs— and please, for the love of fuck: GO AWAY.)

I ignore the next chorus of knocks and worried, pleading voices. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. Then the lock turns, knob twists open, and a single person walks in. 

Christen Press shushes the group still outside the door and locks it before turning to survey the damage. She doesn’t notice me yet, leaning against my countertop and bleeding. I watch as her eyes scan the entire apartment, see her wincing and grimacing at various broken items. Her eyes widen when she lands on the most broken item in the place— me.

“Shit…Em.” The forward whispers before striding over to me, arms raised in surrender and expression gentle. 

She’s looking at me like I’m a rabid dog. 

(Fucking bitch.)

“What, like I’m so unstable now I’m gonna jump at you???” I let out a harsh laugh and roll my eyes at her look of contrition. “Save it. I’m fine. I just want to be alone. You all just NEED….” I breathe out and fix my gaze back down to the floor— seeing that pity is not helping me control my emotions. “I need to be left alone.”

I don’t hear anything for a few minutes. I know she’s still there, I can hear hear walking around my apartment and cursing under her breath, can sense her coming to a stop a few feet from me. But I don’t know why. I asked to be left alone. After SHE broke into MY home. I don’t know why she won’t just fucking leave. 

I wipe at my cheek and and swear as one of the pieces of glass embedded in my hand becomes embedded in my face. 

Christen chooses that moment to speak again. 

“Can I help clean up your hands and face? And feet?” 

“Why?”

She pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why the hell would I clean them up when they’re gonna get fucked up again? It’s exactly like the…I didn’t want to— LEAVE! Please, just go. I can’t do this.” 

I normally hate crying in front of people, but the embarrassment doesn’t feel so important anymore. I have a bruised lip, black eye, a combination of dried and fresh blood covering my skin, and almost definitely a concussion.

So, it’s just, like…whatever, at this point, y’know? 

At least, those are the thoughts going through my head as the tears begin to fall again. 

:::::::

Christen (god bless her, and all that fucking jazz) respected my wish for her to back the fuck off and leave my place. 

So I’m a little bit surprised when I hear her whispers coming from my kitchen the next morning. 

I don’t know who gave her the key to my place…scratch that, I know exactly who did. 

(Why in the hell would Emma want to be a part of this, though? 

I told her I needed to be alone. 

Fucking bitch.)

Christen’s voice carries across the apartment to my spot on the couch. It’s where I’ve been sleeping since flying home two weeks ago, and it’s where I’ll continue to crash until my landlord evicts me on the 1st of the month. ‘At least he won’t have to do any renovation to the bedroom, though,’ I think, and let out a hollow laugh. A sharp, shooting pain rips across my torso. I gasp, curse, and clutch at my ribcage with both hands. 

‘Fuck, how do I kept forgetting that whole being-thrown-against-a-pool-table thing? I was shitfaced, sure, but it should still be kind of fucking memorable.’ 

My involuntary snort at remembering yesterday’s bar fight doesn’t help the searing pain to fade. 

When it’s decreased back to a dull throb, I let myself breathe again. 

In, out.

In, out. 

‘How polite will I have to be to get Christen to move…she’s in the way of my alcohol cooling box, and I need that shit right now.

Letting it burn my throat is the only control I have left. 

Well, that, and…bleeding.’

::::::


	31. Going Through The Stages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em continues dealing with her emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this a few days ago (on Dec. 27th), so I'm sorry for the delay. I hope you guys enjoy the update, anyways!!!
> 
> Dedicated to the incredible activist, actress, badass, fighter and writer that was Carrie Fisher. We love you, space mom. This chapter, like everything I do in life, is for you.

:::::

Oscar Wilde once said, “The heart was made to be broken…”

So was I.

:::::

“Someone needs to call her…Em is practically catatonic, Alex.” Christen’s voice, although meant to be hushed, carries from the kitchen to my perch on the couch. “No she’s not doing that anymore, we’re past the anger stage…they’re all healing now, yeah. I’ve made sure to keep them clean and bandaged…the swelling’s gone down, her eye is still bruised, though…no, I know that, Alex…please just think about this…Alex? Hello??? No, I…I can barely hear you…yeah, okay. Bye.” 

I hear Christen take a deep breath and continue shuffling around my kitchen. The fridge door opens and shuts. A minute later, the forward is leaning into my field of vision, facial expression caring and calm. 

“Can you sit up for just a minute, Em? I brought you some juice.” 

My head feels like it’s full of sand as I slowly drag myself into a sitting position. I take the offered cup but don’t bring it to my lips until she fixes me with a stern stare (‘Because, really, what’s the point?…I’m just going to end up throwing it all back up in an hour’). 

Chris takes the red plastic out of my hands (all of my drinking glasses were among the first victims of my rage phase) when I’m finished and moves to sit beside me. 

I lean my head on her shoulder and let the tears start to fall again. 

(It just hurts, it hurts so bad.)

::::::

It’s been nearly three weeks since I saw them kiss. 

I feel so broken. 

:::::

I can’t stop crying…and I don’t want to. Having sobs wrack my body and my eyes sting with exhaustion helps take away from the feeling of my heart continuously shattering in my chest. My throat is raw now and everything hurts. It feels right.

:::::

“I’m taking care of her…yeah…no…I’ve got it covered…”

It’s painful to speak again but I need to. I need to know how Kelley is doing. I need to hear that she’s all right. I clear my throat and prepare to interrupt her phone call. 

“Chr—oh fuck—“ My stomach seizes before I can get my question out and I get sick over the side of the couch.

“—crap, she’s throwing up, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, okay?” Christen doesn’t bother waiting for an answer before hanging up the phone and rushing to my side. My eyes slam shut as another painful stab hits my gut. 

“Huuua—“ I hate the sound of my stomach emptying itself into the bucket beside me. 

The smell isn’t fun either.

‘Fuck—‘

My vision goes dark as the burning sensation rips its way through my body again. I feel cool hands against my clammy skin, one brushing the stray hair off my sweaty forehead, the other rubbing circles on my back. 

I get sick again but she doesn’t pull away. 

:::::

I’m tucked under a blanket, nearly back to sleep, when I hear Chris talking again. I blink awake blearily for a moment before deciding to ignore the hushed voice. Stifling a yawn, I shut my eyes tighter and nuzzle deeper into the pillow. I can’t fight it any longer. Feeling the exhaustion deep in my bones, I let sleep wash over me. 

:::::

My birthday is pretty rough. 

Emma wakes me up from a nap with a FaceTime request. I don’t bother checking a mirror before responding with, “audio only.”

Tobin, Lindsey, and Mal come over for an hour and bring a small cake. I blow out the candles and wish for the day to be over. 

Christen holds all night long without complaint and lets me cry into her shoulder. I fall asleep to her gently singing me a song.

::::: 

‘Why didn't I just tell her??? Why did I keep putting it off??? Why didn’t I say something before it was too late??? I could’ve fixed this, could’ve prevented all of this. If I had just told her, if…fuck, why didn’t I just tell her months ago? I could’ve just said, I love you, Kelley, and then bam— solved. No pain, no heartbreak, none of this shit. If I had just told her, then she would’ve been safe. And if I had fucking dealt with my past, Mandy wouldn’t have come back, she wouldn’t have seen us, she wouldn’t have done all this to break me again. All I needed to do was tell Kelley I love her, that’s it, that’s all I needed to say. Why didn’t I just say it??? Why didn’t I just fucking tell her when I still had the chance??? Because now Kelley is hurt and broken and confused and it’s all my fault because I could’ve just said something, why didn’t I just say something—‘

“Em…Em! Em, wake up…yeah, there you go.” 

My eyes blink open and then I shoot up into sitting position. Christen is kneeling beside the couch, concern in her gaze. My mind is still foggy from sleep. 

“What, uh…what happened?” I stutter out, reaching up to wipe at my sweaty brow. 

“You were having a nightmare, Em. Talking in your sleep. You just kept repeating, ‘Why didn’t I tell her?’ and ‘It’s all my fault,’ over and over again.” 

The dream comes back to me in an instant and tears spring to my eyes. 

“Oh.”

Christen nods sympathetically, “Yeah. So, uh, would you want to talk about that maybe? Because you sounded pretty upset.”

I pause for a minute to collect my thoughts before nodding. “I think so, yeah. Um…it’s, uh…it’s all my fault, Chris.” My voice breaks. “Everything that’s happened, all the pain that I’ve caused, I could’ve prevented it all by just telling Kelley I love her. I could’ve prevented it, could've prevented Mandy. It’s all my fault, everything is all my fault…“ 

“Em, look at me. Please?” I meet her eyes. “Thank you…okay Em, I know you feel like this is on you, but I promise it’s not— no, hang on a second!” The words of protest die in my throat at her clipped tone. “Everything that’s happened is Mandy’s fault, okay? All of it. Every single thing, every single bit of pain and heartbreak and hurt, that’s all on her. Not you. You are not to blame for a single thing that’s happened, so do NOT put that on yourself.”

“How is it not my fault, Chris?!? I could’ve told Kelley sooner, I could’ve—“

“And why didn’t you?”

“I…what?”

“Why didn’t you tell her sooner? Hmm? What happened in your past that made you think you weren’t worthy of love? Who caused you to think that way, Em?”

“I…well, Mandy, but—“

“And who is responsible for making you afraid to open up? Who reacted so horribly and abusively in the past that it rendered you absolutely terrified to say, “I love you.” Who, Emily? Who did that?”

“…Mandy.”

“That’s right. Mandy. She is the one to blame for all this agony, not you. Okay? So don’t beat yourself up like this. None of this is on you, none of it.”

(I feel really bad for calling her a bitch before.

Christen Press is an angel.)

:::::


	32. Supportive Friends and Hearts on the Mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny goes back to therapy, spends a long time on hold, and gets another surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short, but it's building for a big moment. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!

::::::

I really love Christen Press. 

Not in the way Tobin loves her, or the way I love Kelley, but…I do. 

If she hadn’t been there for me this past month, I’m not sure what I would’ve done. Without her shoulder to cry on, without her steady stream of assurances and thick skin, without her being the amazing, loving, nurturing, understanding, caring person that she is, I definitely wouldn’t be in the place I am today (both emotional headspace and physical location-wise). 

Without Christen’s help, I wouldn’t be sitting in Dr. K.B.’s office and preparing myself for my first therapy session in nearly a year. 

I’m going to pick up the ‘thank you’ gift I ordered on the way home.

:::::

“It’s been awhile, Emily. How’ve you been?”

“Um, not great, I, uh—“ 

The tears start flowing before I finish my first sentence. 

They don’t stop until the hour is up and I’m scheduling my next appointment with Dr. K.B.’s office manager. 

::::::

Christen wraps me in a hug the second I get back through my apartment door. 

“You know I love you, right?” I mumble into her sweater, eyes already pricking with tears again.

She squeezes tighter then pulls back to meet my gaze. “Of course, Sonny. I love you, too. And I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. And how far you’re continuing to go.”

I sniffle a few times before averting my eyes and pulling out of her arms. “This is for you, by the way.” I hand the Lulu Lemon bag to Christen and quickly busy myself with taking off my boots and coat (and thus, avoiding having to see any potential negative reactions to the gift). 

“Sonny…thank you. Seriously—I don’t even know how to…this means the world to me.” Christen’s voice breaks on the last few words and I spin just in time to catch her in a hug. She clears her throat before adding, “How did you do this?” 

“Your dad said that the Apache Plum bushes in your mom’s garden were always her favorite; he sent me a few pictures. Tobs did the design for me and then I begged Lulu Lemon to create a custom printed yoga mat. I had to plead with their corporate offices for hours, anytime you were out for a run or in the shower I would call again…it took a while to make it happen, but it was worth it, I think. I, uh, I hope…look, I know I can never truly thank you enough for how much you helped me over the past few months, this last one in particular, but…I still had to try.” 

This time around, Christen is the one crying onto my shoulder. 

It’s really freeing to feel again.

::::::

I had another session with Dr. K.B. a few days after the first, and have since had eight more. 

During each one, I can feel myself healing a little more, breathing a little easier, feeling a little deeper. With every minute I talk to my shrink about what I’m planning to say to Kelley, how to emotionally prepare myself for any outcome of that conversation, when I’ll finally be healed enough to rid Mandy from my life for good, with every word I speak, I can feel my heart mending. But not only are the pieces coming back together, they’re being cemented into place. After each session, I walk back into the door of my apartment and into Christen’s arms, and hear Tobin’s words from all those months ago, telling me, “You, Emily Sonnett, need superglue. You DESERVE superglue.” And then I take a deep breath and feel another broken piece of my heart to be adhered into a permanent space. 

After my second appointment, I made the mistake of telling my friends that I finally felt ready to talk to Kelley. I didn’t realize that I’d messed up saying those words then, but now, having just walked back into my empty apartment after therapy, I know it’s true. Because I opened the door, expecting a hug from a supportive friend, and instead found a bright pink Post-It note waiting on my countertop. 

A bright pink Post-It note reading: 

‘You’ve been taking too long. I’m flying to Salt Lake now, I’ll tell her everything for you.’

::::::


	33. Portland to Salt Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily finally catches a break.

:::::::

‘Christen didn’t write the note…it wasn’t her…

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

FUCK.’

These are just a few of the thoughts circling through my head as I stand in the pickup line at the Salt Lake City International Airport, wind in my hair and phone pressed against my ear. 

“Slow down, just…slow down.” I force myself to take a deep breath and exhale all the angry frustration I’ve had building up in my gut since first seeing that pink Post-It. “Now, please just explain to me this: what on Earth made you think writing that note was a good idea, Tobin???” 

“I’m so, so sorry, Sonny,” My captain says for the hundredth time. “I…I knew you had told Chris you were ready to talk to Kelley, this was like a month ago. And I was so happy for you, but then weeks went by, and nothing happened. I thought you’d lost your nerve again, and that maybe a kick in the pants is what you needed…writing the note was supposed to— I didn’t think you’d just hop on a plane to Utah right away, I swear!!! I was just trying to get you out of your head, I thought you’d react by calling her right after your session. I figured the motivation would help…I’m really, really sorry.”

I take a few more deep breaths before trying to form a response. I need a minute to process this. 

Tobin evidently takes my silence to mean that I’m still pissed, because she starts talking again quickly. “I know you’re mad at me, I get it, and I’m so sorry. Just, please, know I did it because, y’know, I love you and stuff. Because I just want you and Kelley to be happy, and talking is the first step. I know I went at this the wrong way, and that you’re really mad at me, but—“

“I’m not mad.”

She lets out a spluttering sound over the phone. “Wha— seriously?!? But I messed everything up for you again!!!”

“Yeah, you very much did do that.”

“And I overstepped my boundaries again!!!”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I agree with my captain.

“And then you got on a plane to Utah!!!” 

“Mhm, and you will be reimbursing me for that. Same-day airfare isn’t cheap.”

“Okay, that’s…fair, that’s…fine. Just…you’re not mad at me?”

Maybe it’s because I was in therapy less than four hours ago, maybe it’s because I would’ve been in this same spot later on regardless, maybe it’s because Tobin being anything other than chill feels unnatural; I don’t know for sure. But I’m definitely not mad at her…quite the opposite, in fact. Now that I’ve taken a minute to process everything, all I feel is gratefulness. Because I’m so lucky to have someone in my life who cares about me so much she keeps fucking it up.

“Sonny?” Tobin’s voice breaks me from my thoughts.

“I really am not mad at you. I mean, I definitely would’ve preferred a bit more time to finalize my speech, or talk this through with my therapist, not gonna lie. But I understand why you wrote the note…you’ve seen me break and back out more than a few times now, it’s not off base to worry about that kind of thing happening again. You were trying to help.”

“I…yeah.”

A loud honk pulls me from the conversation. My ride is here. 

“Hey, Tobs, I’ve got to go…tell Chris thanks for taking care of me the past few weeks, okay? I really appreciate you both.” 

::::::

If Becky was surprised to get a last-minute text from yours truly, asking her to pick me up from the airport, she doesn’t show it. We chat lightly as she maneuvers her car through city traffic, talking about next camp and our families. It’s not until we’re stopped at a red light that she turns fully to me and looks me in the eye. 

“Am I taking you to Kelley’s?” Her tone is nurturing yet firm, her steady gaze fixed on me. 

I’d forgotten that I hadn’t told her where I needed to be dropped, but she’d clearly already thought ahead. 

I give her a soft smile. “Yes.” 

The light turns green and the car starts to move again. I let my mind wander as Becky stays quiet. After ten or so minutes, she clears her throat and nods. 

“Okay.”

We sit in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the ride, Becky humming softly along with the radio and me thinking about what lies ahead. 

As she slows to a stop in front of an apartment building, my teammate turns to me again. “This is her place. She lives in 10A.” 

I nod but hesitate before getting out, “Hey, Becky?”

“Yeah, Sonnett?”

“Thank you so much for this. Seriously. Thank you.”

She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Be good to her.”

I surprise both of us by leaning in for a quick hug before getting out. Becky waves and pulls away from the curb, leaving me standing alone outside the large brick building. 

‘Here goes everything,’ I think to myself, as my feet take me the last fifty feet to the complex’s front door. I hover there for a moment, eyes scanning up and down the listed directory, trying to decide which stranger to bother. 

‘E. Parker sounds promising,’ I think before pressing the button.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice wafts through the speaker. 

“Hi!!!” My voice reflects my excitement of getting a response, and I quickly tone it down so as to not freak her out. “You don’t know me, but I was hoping you could buzz me up…it’s in the name of true love.”

The intercom crackles for a minute. Just when I think she’s hung up on me, her voice sounds again. 

“You’re lucky that I’m a sucker for a good romance. Come on in.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. 

::::::

I decide to take the stairs all the way up to the tenth floor, in order to give myself a few more minutes of preparation. As I walk, I pull my phone out and read through the note I’ve been working on for the past month: the speech I’m going to give Kelley. 

“Okay,” I whisper to myself as I reread the last few sentences, rolling my shoulders back and cracking my neck, “Let’s do this.”

The door for apartment 10A is directly to the right of the stairwell door as I walk through. 

“Okay,” I repeat, clearing my throat a few times and cracking my neck once more. I briefly consider doing some elaborate knocking pattern, but decide against it and sharply rap my knuckles thrice against the oak instead. 

“Just a second!” I hear her voice coming from the other side of the door, followed by a thump and the sound of footsteps. I bite my bottom lip as the lock turns and then—

I choke on air.

‘How is she even more breathtaking than I remembered?!?’

Everything I’d planned on saying, the speech I’d been practicing in the stairwell, it slips from my mind in an instant. And instead, all I can say is:

“Wow.”

::::::


	34. Talking to Kelley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk.

::::::

“Mandy’s in jail.” 

The love of my life’s first words render me even more speechless than her beauty. I’ve got a lot of feelings going through my body right now and I feel a little dizzy. I should sit down. 

Kelley must see my legs wobbling, because she takes my hand in hers and leads me inside her apartment. My mind is racing too much to take in much of the surroundings— I’m being pushed onto a chair, I know there’s a table to my left because I hit my arm on it, also I think the walls are some shade of white— fuck.

“She’s in jail?” I hear my voice, raspy and low, before I even register that my lips are moving.

“Yeah,” Kelley says, pulling a second chair out from the table to take a seat in front of me. 

“I…how?” My vision is still swirling, eyes unfocused, as I force my head up to look at her. 

‘God, she’s gorgeous.’

Kelley clears her throat, interrupting my thoughts, “You weren’t the only one, Em.”

My brain becomes a flurry of confusing emotions upon hearing those words. I feel each one pulsing in my head, becoming building blocks for a headache.

“Lindsey found the others.” 

I just blink at her. I’m really confused now. “Other…the other what? I don’t understand.” 

“The other people she treated like you, Em,” Kelley says, still eyeing me with a slightly wary expression on her face. 

My heart feels like it implodes as her words register. 

‘The others.

Not the only one.

You’ll never be enough, Emily.’

I shut my eyes tight as Mandy’s voice enters my head. I feel myself starting to spiral, my lungs begin to seize, head shaking back and forth, eyes stinging with unshed tears. But then Kelley says:

“Babe?”

And it all clears. And I can breathe again.

::::::

I excuse myself to the bathroom when Kelley gets up to turn off the stove— she’d evidently been making vegan chili when I knocked. 

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My head is still clear, mind finally free from the swirling emotions, and I remember why I came in the first place. I splash cold water on my face, dry it, then pull out my phone. It opens to the note that I had been looking at in the stairwell—the speech I’d been planning on giving Kelley—and I begin to read it aloud, slowly.

“First off, I am so sorry for hurting you. I am so sorry for freaking out the morning after we slept together and hiding in my closet. I am so sorry for not saying sorry as soon as I recognized what a cruel move that was.” I take a deep breath and focus on my blue eyes reflected in the mirror. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you were unlovable, and for taking advantage of your feelings for sex. I’m sorry for sending so many different signals in the last few months— I know all of them hurt in their own way, and I hate myself for putting you through pain like that. I’m sorry for ghosting you completely while still talking to your closest friends. I’m sorry for bringing you into my life, exposing you to my past, and having my worst, most sociopathic baggage trick you into dating her. I’m sorry I kept chickening out of telling you how I feel. I’m sorry for putting you, unknowingly, in the position for Mandy to get to me through you. I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you all of this. I’m sorry for—“

My monologue gets cut off when Kelley yanks the door open, spins my body around to face hers, and presses our lips together. 

:::::

“Kelley…Kelley…mmm…baby girl, wait,” I get out between searing kisses, finally ripping my face from hers and whirling her around so she’s between my body at the bathroom sink. 

‘This feels familiar,’ I can’t help but think as I take stock of our positioning and the wanton desire written all over Kelley’s face. 

She tries to pull me back in for a kiss but I grasp her wrists gently and bring them to my lips. Leaving light kisses on each one, I release them and just stare at the beautiful girl in front of me. Her expression slowly melts from arousal to adoration as I take in every inch of her image. I reach out and push wispy hair from her forehead before pressing a kiss there. When I pull back, her eyes are closed, a small smile giving away her emotional state. 

“Let’s go sit and talk, okay?” When her smile turns into a pout, I giggle. Kelley’s expression immediately turns into one of disbelieving joy. I grin and kiss the tip of her nose. “We can come back to this part later if you’d like, but first we need to discuss everything…I want us to talk openly about our thoughts, fears, emotions, desires, past mistakes, future dreams, all of it, so this, us, can succeed. Let’s do it right this time around.” I interlace our fingers and take a step back, starting to guide us back to the kitchen. “So, how about it, beautiful…once more, with feeling?”

::::: 

“So I think the first thing we should probably talk about is…how much do you know about my past with Mandy?” We’re sitting on her couch now, hands still clasped but bodies otherwise apart.

Kelley nods, like she was expecting that question. “Only what Tobin, Alex, and Lindsey felt comfortable discussing. They didn’t go into any details, they wouldn’t tell me what exactly she did, uh—“ She looks down and grips my hand a little tighter. I give her an encouraging squeeze in return. “I know that she blackmailed you in high school, threatening to out you to your family and friends. I know that things became intimate, and that you fell in love with her. That she reacted really badly when you told her. I know that she showed back up as soon as you let yourself be happy. And I know that the night I met her, in the bar after our last friendly, she was there looking for you.”

“Okay, so— wait, what? How do you know that?” I gulp, trying not to let panic overtake me.

“The short answer? Because of A-Rod.”

“…what??? Amy??? The same woman who screamed at me after I committed that foul, who told me I’d never make it to the Olympics…SHE came to my aid?!?” 

“Oh hell no.” Kelley says, so matter-of-factly that I can’t help but let out a loud laugh. She smiles at me before continuing, “A-Rod was here the night I found out about everything. Alex had intercepted me after you saw us kiss, told me that Mandy was your psycho ex and was manipulating me to hurt you…I told her to fuck off. I thought she was just trying to break us up, I knew she didn’t approve. For the rest of that camp, I avoided all of our friends. Wouldn’t talk to them, or let them talk to me. I pretty much bit Alex’s head off when she tried to stage an intervention in the ice bath room.” 

“I didn’t know any of that,” I breathe after she tapers off, giving Kelley’s hand a gentle squeeze again when I see her start to tear up. “Hey, no, baby…you can’t blame yourself for reacting like that. Mandy has a way of getting into someone’s head, affecting their relationships with others, corrupting their sense of self. It’s not your fault that you couldn’t hear our friends criticisms then, just like it’s not mine that I didn’t listen to Emma all those years ago. Okay?”

She swallows and nods, “Yeah. I still feel guilty about it, though.”

“Guilt is a natural part of existing, at least according to my therapist and the internet. Besides, the ability to feel bad on behalf of others, it means you’re not a sociopath…which is a really good thing, because I’ve had my fill of dating them.” 

My bad attempt at humor succeeds in pulling Kelley out of her head; she shifts closer to me on the couch.

“Why don’t you tell me about the story of you and Mandy, from the first night at the bar. We can start there, talk it through together. Afterwards, I’ll do the same. Does that sound okay, beautiful?” 

I hadn’t realized I’d called her the pet name again until a deep blush erupts across her cheeks. She ducks her head to hide it, but, when she speaks again, her tone gives away that she’s still embarrassed. 

“Um, yeah, but we probably shouldn’t be holding hands for this part. I, uh…I mean, I love holding your hand, and all, but—“

“It’s okay,” I cut her off, squeezing her hand once before pulling mine away. “I understand. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

Kelley clears her throat, closes her eyes, and begins. “It was a few hours after our last friendly, and I was hurting…a lot. I’m not sure if you remember this, given how out of it you were, but: Tobin had texted me the night before, trying to be subtle no doubt, asking if I was going out with the team post-game. I said yes out of instinct…but then when it came time, I wanted to back out. I had seen Tobin’s and your weird interaction on the bus, had made myself crazy thinking about what it might mean. Alex basically stuffed me into presentable clothes, told me we were going to go get drunk and have fun.” She pauses for a moment before continuing, “We’d been there for maybe an hour when a girl—Mandy—approached me. Dark hair, near-black eyes, tan skin— she was the complete opposite of you. And I was heartbroken, and tipsy, so I agreed to dance with her. It, uh…it was nice. At the time, I mean. She was saying all the right things, giving me butterflies, acting soft and vulnerable but still somehow maintaining an air of intrigue…looking back, it’s so obvious she was playing me. But at the time, I felt wanted and desirable, in ways I hadn’t since our night together. After a few hours, the team all went back to the hotel…and I left with her. When my alarm went off at 5:30 the next morning, both Mandy and I woke up. I told her I had to go pack for my flight, which was a half-lie, but she understood. She made me coffee, gave me a piece of paper with her phone number on it, and told me that there was no pressure, but would love to see me again if I was interested. That last bit really got me, I replayed those words over and over again in my head on the Uber ride back. ‘No pressure, would love to see me,’ echoed through my head. When we got back to the hotel, I went right to Tobin’s room to sleep in her bed— I knew you guys had an early flight, that she’d be awake already, so I could crash there instead of pissing off my roommate. Later…later, Chris told me what Tobin had assumed, and how she’d congratulated you on the plane ride home. I, uh…I’m sorry you had to hear about it that way, Em.” 

I drain my glass of water quickly. “It’s okay. Keep going?”

“I had texted Mandy before I heard that, though, and told her to let me know if she was ever in Salt Lake. Surprise, surprise, she responded saying she’d be working here for the next few months. It seemed kismet at the time, but really it was just her manipulating me. We went out the night after I flew home, and she asked me to be her girlfriend. It was fast, yeah, but it felt so good to be wanted. To be openly desired like that, y’know? I felt like I would finally get a real chance to be in a relationship on my terms, with a partner who wasn't embarrassed to be with me.” I know that it’s completely fair of Kelley to feel that way after my reaction; still, it stings to hear. “I told Alex a few days later…she kinda flipped. Said I was moving way too fast, that it wasn’t healthy. I shut her up by saying something along the lines of, “I’m finally happy again, Alex, why do you want to ruin that for me?!?” It, uh, it wasn’t my finest moment. Anyway, after I got the same reaction from my sister and Chris, I stopped talking about it altogether. I didn’t want to hear their criticisms. And I guess everyone took my silence to mean that Mandy and I were no longer serious, because Alex told you not to give up right after, and Christen freaked out after hearing I was out on a date…which resulted in you seeing Mandy kiss me outside our hotel and made you spiral. That was the night that all of our friends found out that the woman I was dating and the girl that had shattered your heart were one in the same. And then they tried to tell me that, and I told them to fuck off and ignored them for the rest of camp.”

“And A-Rod?” I prompt after she remains silent for a beat.

“Right,” Kelley clears her throat, “Amy was here the night I got back, Tobin had texted her looking for backup. She sat me down and forced me to listen to our friends, made me confront the truth behind it all. And, uh…” Kelley laughs, short and melodic. “And then Mandy had the balls to knock on my apartment door, and was met with 110-pounds of short, super jacked pure fury.”

“No one told me about that…what happened???”

“A-Rod beat the shit out of Mandy, with Tobin, Chris, and Alex cheering her on through our FaceTime call.”

“Holy…” I’m silent for a minute, trying to process the news of Amy Rodriguez’s epic takedown. “Y’know, that SO makes up for her yelling at me in August.” 

Kelley starts laughing along with me, meeting my gaze for the first time since she’d begun the story. “All is forgiven on the A-Rod front, good to know…now, um, it’s your turn.”

And so I take a deep breath, in and out, and start talking. 

“It all began before my sophomore year in high school. I was just coming to terms with being gay…”

:::::::


	35. Second Chances and Heart-Eye Glances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily is so lucky; Kelley comes.

:::::::

“Do you want anything to eat?” I call to my girlfriend, who had just excused herself to the bedroom for a minute. “Want me to fix you a bowl of chili?” 

There’s no response, so I try again, a bit louder this time.

“Kel? Are you hungry? Would you like me to reheat some chili for you?” When she still doesn’t answer, I start preparing the meal. Raising my voice, I ask, “Do you want milk or water with dinner, babe? Or wine?” 

Silence. My mind wanders to our conversation, which had ended minutes before. We talked for hours; my flight touched down in the early afternoon and now it was nearly 8 PM already. After I finished telling her the story of me and Mandy, I read her my prepared speech— the one she had partially overheard while I was rehearsing in the bathroom. Then we switched to our night together. I told her what went through my mind the second I saw the cleat marks. She told me what it had felt like, leaving my apartment with a broken heart and a million unanswered questions…we both cried for a long time after that. When the tears had finally stopped, the future was brought up. I told Kelley that I loved her, and wanted to show her that forever if she’d let me. She sobbed into my chest for a few minutes before repeating the words back. We talked about sex, about boundaries, about likes and dislikes, about plans and schedules and date night ideas and love languages and allergies and everything else we could think of under the sun. And then finally, ten minutes ago, we ended our talk on the topic of Harry Potter. Or, more specifically, the stipulation on Kelley’s part that if I wanted to be her girlfriend, I had to finish reading the series. I had my phone out and was about to order the box set when Kelley said she thought she’d brought them with her after her last trip home. 

“Where are the cups…” I’m muttering to myself now, having come to the conclusion that Kelley must want a minute alone. “Aha!” 

I’m spooning chili into a bowl when I hear her speak again. “Em? Can you come in here? I need you.” 

‘She needs me.’ A dorky smile breaks out across my face at the thought. ‘I’m the luckiest person alive.’

If I had thought about the potential reason behind her requesting my presence in her bedroom for more than a second, I probably would’ve reacted better to what I saw upon opening Kelley’s door. 

I definitely wouldn’t have gaped for a full half minute in the doorway, my brain slow to process the sight in front of me…or let out a loud groaning sound. Or sunk my teeth into my bottom lip so hard it bled. 

I wish I had thought about her wording for more than a second, because then it would’ve been my fingers that brought her to orgasm, instead of her own. 

But I didn’t think, and so I have to just watch as Kelley’s back arches, her hand still pumping underneath the waistband of gray joggers, as she swears and screams and comes. 

“Mine.” The deep growl erupts from within my chest, eyes narrowing in on the gasping girl a few feet away. “Mine.” My feet are closing the distance before my brain even realizes it. In an instant, I’m beside her. “Mine.” I grasp her wrist and yank it out from her pants. I suck her wet fingers into my mouth, swirling my tongue around her digits and moaning at the taste. “Mine.” I repeat, pulling her fingers from my mouth and tugging her body into a standing position. All I see her is her, all I know is intense want. “You’re mine, baby girl.”

My hands grip the backs of her thighs and I pull her closer, lifting her legs to wrap around my hips. I’m moving again, this time to press Kelley against the wall. Her breathy whimpers ground me, the tunnel vision no longer present and the instincts no longer primal. I run my hands up to rest on either side of her rib cage. She’s panting now, keening into me, rocking her hips up in a desperate motion. I press her further into the wall, forcing her body to still. Leaning down, I pull the fabric of her Hufflepuff t-shirt (yes, you read that right; it’s partially see through and so fucking hot) and press my lips to the skin above her heart. 

Kelley exhales loudly, no doubt trying to slow herself down to the pace I’ve set. “Good girl,” I whisper fervently again her chest. My lips make their way up her body, pressing kisses into every inch of exposed skin. When my tongue comes out to taste her neck, she whines. I scrape my teeth along her jaw next, loving the moans it earns me. After kissing the corner of her mouth, I pull back and survey the girl in front of me.

“Wow.”

Kelley’s stomach growls and slices through the heaviness like a knife. We lock eyes— and burst out laughing. 

“Dinner time, beautiful,” I set her down and grin when she immediately pouts. “That’s not up for discussion, you’ll need the energy.” I kiss her lightly on the lips before intertwining our fingers and leading her back to the kitchen. “Sit.” I instruct, pulling out a chair and separating our hands. I busy myself with heating up a bowl of her vegan chili, smiling to myself when I see her perched patiently on the chair. 

‘God, she’s gorgeous.

I’m so fucking lucky.’ 

The microwave beeps, pulling me out of my reverie. I finish pouring her a glass of oat milk and then bring both to the table, setting them down before fetching a spoon. I sit in the chair next to hers and immediately grin at the furrow in her brow. “Careful, babe, it’s hot. Don’t want you to burn your tongue.” 

Kelley brings her eyes back up to meet mine. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” I ask, puzzled.

“Stop distracting me with your perfectness. I was told I must eat, that I’d be needing the energy.” 

“Someone’s feeling sassy today, wow. Okay, fine, I will wait in the kitchen.” I stand and pretend like I’m about to walk away; Kelley is on her feet and attached to my body in seconds. 

“Nooooooo, I changed my mind.” 

I laugh at her words and wrap my arms around her. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I maneuver us back down to a sitting position, the love of my life burrowed into my neck. “I’ve got you.” I feel her heartbeat, synced up to my own, and smile. We stay like that, wrapped up in each other, for the rest of the night: first at the table, with me feeding her spoonfuls of chili and exchanging heart eyes; then in the bath, as I press soft kisses across bare shoulder blades, her back molded to my chest; and finally in the bed, with her face tucked into my neck and breathing starting to even out. 

The last thought I have before sleep overtakes me is this:

‘I’m the luckiest girl in the entire world, to love and be loved by Kelley O’Hara.’

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #So'HaraLives.


	36. Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em just wants to take care of her good baby girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter dives further into how important a role communication plays in a relationship, D/s in particular.)

::::::

“How?” Kelley is equal parts surprised, amused, and bemused as she takes in the scene in front of her. 

I just grin. “Morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” 

“Good— great, actually, I…seriously though, babe, how’d you pull this off?”

I smirk and start slowly walking over to my girlfriend. “Well, for starters, I have Emma to thank for overnighting the uniform…and for bribing a WaHo employee into giving it to her.” I pause to set the pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice on her table and adjust my hat. “Zola was kind enough to pick up all the ingredients I needed at the store and farmer’s market, thank god it was both on his way to work and that he also responds to bribes. Your neighbor, Ellen, likes cash too, by the way; I found that out when I realized you didn’t own a waffle maker. And, lastly, you—“ I come to a stop in front of her, “are to thank for being so goddam irresistible and perfect and amazing that I couldn’t help but fall head-over-heels in love.” 

She leans into me, arms moving to wrap around my shoulders and a smile spreading across her face. I grin, my hands finding her hips, and lean down to press our lips together. 

“I love you, too,” Kelley gets out in between hungry kisses, her body already responding enthusiastically. 

::::::

“Don’t let this go to your head, or anything, but…this was the best first date idea anyone has ever had.” 

I can’t help but send her a huge grin. “Good…because you deserve only the best things in life, beautiful.” I kiss her forehead as I begin to stand up, preparing to clear the table. 

“Wait, Em…” 

I pause at Kelley’s request, my brow furrowing slightly, and squat in front of her to try and meet her gaze. She won’t look at me, eyes trained on the ground instead. I reach out to hold her shaking hand in mine, but, the second our bodies touch, she flinches. 

I try to keep the worry out of my voice, as I fail to stop my brain from jumping to worse-case scenarios. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” 

Her response is instantaneous — a high, needy whimper falls from her lips, entire body stiffening like a board immediately afterwards. 

‘Oh, that’s why she was…fuck, that’s so hot.’ 

Seeing a blush erupt across my girlfriend’s face pulls me from my reverie. 

“Babe? Hey…baby?” When she still doesn’t answer, I have to change tactics. “I need you to look at me. Now.” Her wide eyes snap up to meet mine right away. “Good girl, thank you, baby…okay, I need you to use your words now and tell me what just happened so I can help. Can you do that for me, beautiful?” She nods frantically. “Good, go ahead.” 

Kelley takes a deep breath before beginning, “Uh, so…and when you were…and then, with the, uh—” She gulps but keeps her gaze focused on me. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I, uh…can I please start again?” 

“Of course, babe, take your time.” I shift backwards to sit on my chair, thumb still rubbing circles into our joined hands. “I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere, there’s no pressure…just take your time, okay? I’ll be right here whenever you’re ready, beautiful.” 

After a few minutes of silence, Kelley clears her throat and nods. “Yeah. Uh…so, the reason I’m sorry is because…I was trying to be good for you, to wait until after breakfast—and, I mean, I know how hard you worked on making this date so perfect, I didn’t mean to ruin it. I just…you looked so good, and you were being so amazing, taking care of me like that, I…” She lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes, tight. “I tried so hard to fight it, Em, I promise that I did, but I couldn’t wait any longer…I’m sorry, Em. I should’ve tried harder to fight it, I’m so sorry.”

I reach out and pull her into my arms. She burrows deep into my neck, sniffling softly. “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe. Now, can you please just tell me this: what exactly are you apologizing for? Because I still don’t understand that…I mean, you’ve been nothing but amazing this morning.”

Kelley pulls away, confusion written loud across her face. “Yesterday, in my room, you said, ‘Only I get to touch you like that.’ But, this morning, I…” 

Understanding dawns on me right away. “Oh, so that’s why…you touched yourself, baby girl?”

She inhales sharply at the last two words, submissive desire replacing her confusion at once. After a few seconds, she nods tightly, clearly trying push the feelings of arousal down so as to answer my question. “Yes…when we were eating breakfast, I was just so—I kept trying to fight it, kept trying to focus just on being with you, but I couldn’t, and…and then you said that I deserved only the best things, but I don’t, because I touched myself and I shouldn’t have and I’m so, so sorry, Em.” 

“Whoa, no, baby— look at me, Kel.” Sad and shame-filled eyes snap up to meet my concerned ones. “It’s okay, you did nothing wrong. We didn’t define this clearly enough yesterday, and that’s my fault, not yours. Okay? I said the ‘only I touch you’ command in the heat of the moment…I’m so sorry for not communicating better, baby; I shouldn’t have said anything like that before we talked more about what our relationship will look like. I hate that I made you feel like you were a bad sub, because you aren’t. You are so perfect for me, okay, and you have been such a good girl. I’m so sorry for making you think anything different…can you forgive me?” 

Kelley nods and presses a kiss into my neck. 

“Thank you, beautiful…can we have the conversation now, the one I should’ve initiated last night?”

Another nod follows. 

“Okay, I’m going to move us first, get a little more comfortable. Ready?” 

She nods again. I tighten my hold and carry her to the couch; once seated, she shifts to cuddle against my chest as I lean back on the cushions. 

“When we had our long talk yesterday, we didn’t touch upon the type of D/s relationship we were going to have…we discussed boundaries, safe words, etc, but not this. So, since we’re having it now…my first question has to be: what kind of dynamic do you see us having?” 

Kelley hesitates before whispering her response. “I don’t want to act any different than non-BDSM couples when we’re around our friends…I just want to be submissive with you, when we’re alone. Is that okay?”

“Having a Private dynamic is good with me. What about level— 24/7 or bedroom-only?”

“Uh, I guess…maybe somewhere in the middle?” Her voice is nearly inaudible now, face burrowing as deep as possible into my chest. 

“I really need you to look at me, baby. Can you please do that?” Kelley’s chin presses into my sternum as she slowly shifts her face up to meet my gaze. “You’ve been getting quieter, shier even, since I started asking these questions. So I have to ask: is it the topic that’s making you nervous, or is it that you have to make decisions without knowing what my responses would be?”

“The second one,” she whispers, eyes hesitant but still locked on me. 

“Okay, love…you’re usually much more outspoken and confident about this type of thing, about making decisions without other’s opinions, so am I correct to assume this worry is sub-based?”

“Yeah…” Kelley admits quietly.

“Is it because you’re worried that your Domme won’t like your decisions?”

Kelley’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks, “I don’t want to say the wrong thing…I just want to please you, be your good girl. And I’m really scared I’ll disappoint you with my answers.” 

“Oh, baby…” I cradle her face in my hands and lean in to press our forehands together. “Listen to me…listen to me, baby: you aren’t disappointing me by telling me how you feel or what you want; it’s the exact opposite, in fact— I’m so proud of you for being honest with me like this. And you’re being such a good girl, making me so happy, by answering those questions truthfully. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kelley sniffles a few times before nodding. She takes long, deep breaths, evidently in the process of resetting. Her eyes are now free of tears. When she speaks again, her voice is steady and clear. “Thank you…I feel a lot better now. That was weird, it felt like a…” 

“Subdrop?” I finish, after she trails off. 

“Yeah…I didn’t know it could come on like that, though. It never has before.” 

“Well, when you think about it…this has been a very emotionally taxing period for you, not unlike one that could happen after sex. Maybe you experienced a drop because your mind and body recognized the similarities and responded as they would’ve in turn.” 

“I mean…it was a pretty quick switch from being insanely horny to worrying I hadn’t been a good sub for you, so…yeah. That, uh,” Kelley giggles. “That could definitely explain some stuff.”

We’re both quiet for a few minutes, each processing the emotions of the last hour. Kelley yawns into my chest as I press a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Time for a nap, beautiful.” I ignore her soft protests and stand up, the love of my life held securely in my arms as I walk to her room. 

I set Kelley on the bed and move around to the other side to join her. 

She murmurs a soft, “I love you,” as she cuddles further into me and closes her eyes.

“I love you, too,” I whisper back, a smile on my face as we drift off to sleep together. “Forever.”

::::::


	37. Lace Panties and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em takes care of Kelley, in the other sense this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure pornography...I hope y'all enjoy.

::::::

I fall asleep to the sound of my girlfriend’s steady breathing; I wake up to something quite different. 

It takes a minute for my brain to become alert enough to identify what the noise that roused me is, but then I’m wide awake. 

My eyes fly open as Kelley whimpers again in her sleep. I can feel the heat emanating from her pussy as she grinds it against my thigh and moans. 

“Fuck,” I exhale, as she rocks into my leg again. Careful not to wake her up, I shift my positioning on the bed and separate our bodies. Next, I gently move Kelley onto her back. Brown hair splays across the pillows, forming a halo around her face, and I watch as both hands move to grip the sheets tightly. Her back arches as another whimper slips from parted lips. I take a minute to memorize the look of pure desperation on my sleeping girlfriend’s face. “Fuck,” I can’t help but repeat. 

Sliding lower on the bed so as to make our bodies level, I prop myself up on one hand and let the other roam. I play with the hem of Kelley’s shirt before pulling it up a few inches, revealing the smooth, freckled skin of her abdomen as I go. My fingers trace gentle patterns on her stomach, dip briefly under the waistband of her lace panties, and move to scratch lightly below her belly button. With each caress, I watch as the dark patch on my girlfriend’s underwear gets more and more prominent. Her hips are now rutting up sporadically, each thrust paired with a needy whimper. I swipe my thumb through her covered slit swiftly— contact is made for less than a second, but it’s enough to earn me a long moan and arched back. 

My eyes move from the growing wet spot on Kelley’s panties to her neck; she’s thrown her head back, giving me a view of the expanse of unmarked flesh, pale skin just waiting for me to sink my teeth into.

‘I want to claim her. I want to paint her entire throat black-and-blue…want her to come as I give her hickey after hickey, as I whisper, “Mine,” and bite down harshly on her pulse point. I want others to look on with envy as they see her covered in bruises, knowing she belongs to me. She’ll blush, stutter, act all innocent, but I’ll know just how much she loves them. Each mark is a symbol of my claim, each bruise reminding her of how proud I am to be her Domme, to be the only one who gets to have her like this. I’ll whisper praises into her skin as I write my name across her neck for all to see. My perfect little angel, coming—‘

I’m pulled from my daydreams of desire by a series of loud whines. Kelley has her thighs squeezed tightly together, no doubt to provide some friction, and both of her hands have moved to tangle in her hair. Her lips fall open as another desperate moan erupts from her vocal chords.

‘She’s close.’

Just when I’ve made my mind up to let the dream bring her to orgasm without any assistance from my fingers or tongue, Kelley cries out again—this time, moaning a loud, “Please…” and then, lower, “Papí.”

I’m on top of her in an instant. My hands find themselves under her shirt immediately, pinching at each pert nipple. My thigh muscles its way between her legs to rock against the soaked panties. My mouth latches on to her neck right away, sucking a deep bruise into the skin above her pulse point. 

I hear a confused but breathless, “Wha?” from above, followed seconds later by, “FUUUCKKKKKKKKK—“ as my love’s body arches, tenses, and spasms against mine. 

:::::::

It takes Kelley a long time to come down from the orgasm. She’s still panting and trembling over ten minutes later, after I’ve flipped our positions so she could collapse on top of me. I rub slow circles onto the fabric covering her back, my other arm securing her body to mine. When I press a soft kiss to her temple, she shivers and makes a tiny whimpering sound. 

“I’ve got you, beautiful,” I murmur the reassurance before pressing my lips against her hairline. “I’m here, I’ve got you, so take your time, okay? There’s no rush…just breathe for me, in and out. Yeah, exactly like that, baby.” 

Just when I start to think Kelley might’ve fallen back asleep, she stirs. Her head, which had been nuzzled into my neck, is now propped up by her chin on my sternum. Kelley yawns and blinks blearily a few times before she’s able to focus on me. 

I’ve barely started asking her how she’s feeling when she interrupts me. 

“I was dreaming about you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” I feign surprise at her confession. “And what was I doing in your dream, baby girl?”

Kelley’s entire body shudders at my choice in pet names. “You, uh…” She clears her throat and tears her eyes away from mine. “You were taking care of me.”

“Mm, that sounds nice. Tell me about it.” There’s a commanding edge to my voice now, and I smile at the sharp intake of breath and low whine it garners from my partner. “How was I taking care of you in this dream, beautiful? I want specifics.” I move my lips to rest on the shell of her ear, so I can breathe my next words directly into it, “Be a good girl now and tell Papí all about it.”

“Oh, oh fuck, I, uh, I need— please touch me. I need you, please, I—“ 

Before my submissive can utter another word of pleading, I’ve flipped our bodies so she’s trapped underneath me again. 

“What.” Thrust. “Did.” Thrust. “I.” Thrust. “Say?” Thrust.

Kelley whimpers but keeps her hips from rutting up into mine. “I, fuck, I’m sorry, you said tell you, be a good girl…”

She’s panting from the effort to control herself; I briefly consider letting her off with a warning but promptly push that thought aside. “You disobeyed me, baby girl, and now I’m going to have to punish you. Understand?” 

She bites her lip but nods quickly. 

“Good. Now, do you remember your safe word?” 

Kelley nods again, clearing her throat before adding, “It’s ‘Cardinal.’”

“Good, baby girl.” I roll off her and stand beside the bed. “Hands and knees; I want you to count and say, “Thank you, Papí,” each time. Ready?” 

I wait only until I see the back of her head start to nod before landing my first blow. 

SMACK. 

“Ahh—one, thank you, Papí.”

Other cheek now, a bit harder. SMACK.

“Twoooo—thank you, Papí…”

I redirect from her ass to the back of her thighs for my next few. 

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

“Three. Thank you, Papí. Four, ahh, fu— thank you, Papí. Five. Thank…thank you, Papí.” 

I pause after that to run my nails across the reddened flesh. Kelley lets out a small cry. I lean down and press gentle kisses across her abused backside instead. 

“Do you need to use your safe word, baby girl?” I husk reverently, mouth watering at the puffy, pink, absolutely dripping pussy in front of me. I’m about to swipe my tongue through her folds when I hear a soft, “No, Papí. I don’t need to…to safeword,” from above. 

I pull back at her response and let my eyes roam over the as-of-yet untouched flesh. 

SMACK. My hand connects, hard, against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. 

“AHHHHH, OHHhhhhh, fu— uhhh, it…six..six, thank you, Papí.” 

SMACK. Same location, opposite side.

“JEE—muh…ah, seven. Thank…you. Papí…”

“Last one, baby girl. This will be your final punishment and also your reward. You have my permission to come right away, baby girl.” 

Without any further hesitation, I pull my hand back…and bring it crashing down on her pussy. 

Kelley SCREAMS…collapses forward onto her bed, the sheets muffling her cries; her ass is still high in the air, bright red cunt visibly pulsing…then her entire body shudders, tenses, and—

A tidal wave of fluid bursts from between her legs. 

I’ve got an arm secured around her before I even realize it, keeping her hips level when spent legs begin to wobble. Three fingers are pressed against Kelley’s entrance seconds later. 

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re gushing…I wish I could take a picture of this, keep it forever…my good girl, you look so perfect right now, just…fuck you’re so gorgeous, squirting for me. It’s so goddam sexy, baby girl, watching you fall apart like this…oh my god, you feel so good, fuck, baby…”

I have my fingers inside her before I’ve even finished speaking. It’s hotter than I could’ve ever imagined, feeling Kelley pulse around me, gallons of liquid still being released from her spasming cunt. I curl them on the next thrust, press my thumb against her clit, and—

Holy shit…I think she just broke my hand. 

Fuck…

‘Screw it, I’ll deal with that later,’ I quickly decide. I use my good left hand to flip her onto her back; now that I don’t need to hold her up, I’m free to ram two fingers back inside her pussy and start working away. 

No longer being muffled by the sheets, Kelley’s screams fill the air once again. 

:::::::


	38. Talking to the Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley and Em tell the team; Sammy is as hilarious as ever; Danger-Dan O'Hara has some choice words for his daughter's new girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fluff, humor, and shenanigan time!!! 
> 
> (Also: I can't even tell y'all how much I've missed writing the Kids...
> 
> But if I had to put a number to it, it'd be at least 14.)

::::::

“So, girls, why’d you want to meet with me?” Vlatko gets to the point as soon as the door closes behind us. It is pretty unusual for two players to request a meeting with the coaching staff on the first night of camp, after all. 

“Um, well, as luck would have it—“ I start, before a loud voice from the hallway interrupts my fumbling. 

“When two people love each other very, very much, they give each other a speciaaaal—oof, OW!!!” Pinoe’s yelp of pain is followed by a peal of laughter (is that Rose??? And Mal???) and the sound of footsteps running away. 

Kelley is laughing along with the coaching staff at Pinoe’s remark, but I see a flash of unease cross her eyes the second they meet mine. I take her hand in mine without even thinking, instinctually beginning to rub soothing circles into her palm with my thumb. 

The room has gone very quiet now. Several eyebrows are raised in shock at my actions, a few other’s are fighting not to smile. Everyone seems to have picked up on exactly what’s going on between Kelley and I, without our having to say it. 

“Ah. I see.” Vlatko breaks the silence after a few moments. “Well, I have only had to give this speech one time before, so I am just going to say the same words as then…when the game starts or when we are on the practice field, I expect you to be professionals. Keep your focus up and don’t let being in a relationship affect our team, sounds okay?” We nod. “Good, then, let me add: Dawn is no longer with this team, so I think that makes me off the hook for our bet about you two, agree?” 

Everyone, including me, bursts out laughing again.

:::::

“So…we’re dating now.”

The only people who look surprised are Jane, Sophia, and Lynn. 

(Everyone else either knew or suspected, apparently. Including Midge, which confuses me— as my Thorns teammate, she’s never seen Kelley and I interact off the pitch before.) 

“Finally.” 

“SO’HARA LIVESSSS!!!” 

“You two owe me $20.” 

Becky, Rose, and Moe’s comments are all perfect in their own ways. 

After the team is done congratulating us, whooping loudly, and claiming what they’re owed, we break apart into groups for dinner. Allie pulls Kelley away immediately; when we both protest, Lindsey grabs my arm and drags me to a separate table without a word. 

Rose, Mal, Sammy, Andi, and Moe all claim the other seats quickly. When I start to stand up, preparing to fill my plate, I’m pulled right back down. 

“Guys, I’m hungry—“

“Shut up, no one cares! Now…tell us EVERYTHING.” 

::::::

I’m finally allowed to actually eat when Mal changes the subject to Andi’s wedding. 

“You guys are honestly goals.” Rose adds through a mouth of sweet potato. 

Andi grins widely. “I’m, like, so ridiculously happy right now.”

::::::

Not even five minutes after my friends have stopped interrogating me, the conversation circles back. Luckily, I’d been expecting this; I’ve been shoveling food in my mouth nonstop since the topic first switched. 

“Okay, but, speaking of in-laws…how’d meeting the parents go, Sonny?!?” 

(Oh, did I forget to mention that Kelley and I spent the last two weeks in Georgia for the holidays?

Whoops.)

I recount exactly how my parents and sister reacted upon hearing the news, getting laughs at the part where my dad knocked over a candle in surprise, nearly setting the tree on fire, and ‘aw’s when I tell them how my mom hugged us both, whispering to Kelley, ‘Welcome to the family.’ 

“That’s right out of a Hallmark movie, honestly!!! So, then…what’d Emma say?”

“She just sarcastic clapped at me and went, ‘Who could’ve seen this coming??? Not me, that’s for sure. Or anyone with eyes, either.’ It was unbelievably hilarious,” I add on, sarcastically. “But Emma pretending to be surprised at the news led to a lot of confusion from my parents, so I had to give them the basics of everything that happened last year. They had a lot of questions, so that was a fun first three hours home.”

“Wait, does that mean you told your parents how you and Kelley had super hot sex after the Thorns v. Royals game? And then about how you panicked like a little bitch the morning after??” 

“First of all, ouch— the ‘little bitch’ thing was a bit harsh, even if it is 100% accurate…but to answer your question, no. My parents may be okay with the gay thing now, but they’re still from the South. I mean, my sex ed class in high school was genuinely titled, ‘Waiting Until Marriage.’ Seriously. That was an actual thing that happened. So, yeah, telling them about even what happened on the dance floor, even if it was just the PG stuff, would be a disaster. Hell, my parents think Emma and I are still virgins— can you imagine the heart attacks they’d have if I started talking about defiling my teammate against a bathroom sink?”

“Yeah, okay, that is definitely good point,” Andi giggles. 

“Okay, so,” Mal chimes in. “You’ve told us how your family reacted, but…what did the O’Hara’s say???” 

Everyone looks over at me expectantly. I sigh. 

“All right, if I’m going to be telling this story, I’ve got to start with the ride home from the airport. Kelley’s dad picked us up…”

**** Flashback ****

“What makes you think you’re good enough to date Kelley?” Danger-Dan’s version of the scare-your-daughter’s-girlfriend-into-having-a-panic-attack speech is nothing if not straightforward. 

(I mean, I guess he has to get to the point quick— Kelley is almost at the front of the line in Starbucks, after all. She shoots me a smile and quick wave when our eyes meet through the glass.

My heart melts.)

Danger-Dan coughs loudly and subsequently knocks the goofy grin off my face. 

“Uh, well,” I start, clearing my throat a few times to buy myself some time to think. “I’m not.” His brows furrow in confusion, so I continue, “I don’t know if there is anyone alive who IS good enough for her— your daughter is absolutely incredible, sir, and I thank God everyday to be lucky enough for her to give me the time of day. So, if you’re wondering what makes me good enough to date her, I have to say that I’m not. But, if you were to ask what makes me deserving of Kelley’s heart, on the other hand, I think I’d be able to answer that question more clearly.”

He nods, expression somewhere between a glare and a smirk. “Okay then, Ms. Sonnett: how are you deserving of her heart?”

“I’m not.” My response earns me an indignant huff, but I just laugh and continue, “Sorry, sir, I couldn’t help it…I’ll be serious now, though.” I take a deep breath, knowing that what I’m about to admit probably won’t win me any popularity points. “The truth is, I hurt your daughter pretty badly last year; it was 100% unintentional on my part, but still: I broke her heart. And that is something I will regret until my dying day. But I have also done everything in my power to prove to her just how sorry I am for causing her pain. I was a coward for letting my past get in the way of showing her the happiness she deserves. I’ve been in therapy for a few months now, and my shrink asked me the first day the opposite question you just did…she asked me why I thought that I didn’t deserve Kelley. I had a lot of answers, believe me.” Danger-Dan doesn’t seem very impressed as of yet, so I change tactics. “Look, all I can really say is this: I’m in love with your daughter. Head-over-heels, never-felt-this-way-about-anyone-else-before, crazy in love with her. I’m going to spend as long a time as she’ll have me giving her as much happiness I possibly can. Kelley deserves only the best things in life, and I’m going to do everything I possibly can to give them to her. And…I know that probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, but…it’s the truth. I don’t deserve her, but I’ll never stop working until I do.” 

Danger-Dan purses his lips and nods at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but, of course, the car door opens and whatever he was about to say dies with a, “Hey, kiddo, we missed you.”

Kelley rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless. “I was gone for less than five minutes.”

“That’s more than enough time to miss you,” I shoot back with a grin, stealing my girlfriend’s iced coffee and taking a long sip. “I mean, seriously, babe—have you met yourself? You’re amazing. How could we not feel lost without your presence here to give our lives purpose?!?” 

Both O’Hara’s laugh at my dramatics, Kelley pushing me away with pretend-annoyance and shielding her recovered drink, Danger-Dan shaking his head with a smile as he pulls his car out of the Starbucks lot. 

*********

“Woooowwwwww,” Rose gets out between giggles. “That was both super romantic on your part, and absolutely terrifying to imagine having to live through. I’m so happy I’m a hetero right now, I’ve got to tell you…Keaton’s dad gave me a high-five the first time I met him, there was no threatening talk at all!” 

“Dansby’s dad still talks about the golf shirt I gave him a few Christmases ago, it’s hilarious,” Mal chimes in. “I think I won him over just by being interested in sports, honestly. If he had gone all,” she lowers her voice, “‘What are your intentions with my son, why do you think you deserve to date him, do you reallllly think you’re good enough for my boy,’ and shit, I think I would’ve peed myself.”

“Fabrice’s mom gave me side-eye at every dinner through our wedding reception, but I never thought I was lucky to escape with just that!”

“No wait, guys, I’ve got you all beat…” Sammy declares loudly, turning heads across the room with her volume. “My dad didn’t give Pat the threatening talk when I first brought him home…no, he gave it to ME!!! Seriously!!! He gave the speech to HIS OWN DAUGHTER, he kept telling me how I couldn’t mess it up!” We’re all crying with laughter now, Sam’s indigent expression just serving to amuse us further. “I hate you guys…it was traumatic, you’re supposed to feel bad for me! My dad gave the speech to ME, dammit!!!”

Mal, Moe, Andi, Rose and I are still shaking with laughter ten minutes later, when dinner ends.

:::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know!!! Comments help me know how y'all are feeling about this; without them, I'm flying blind as to whether this fic's content is being received well by my readers or not. 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	39. Death Glares and Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Em teases; Kelley flirts; neither has the night they were hoping for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for going AWOL right after I got back into a good posting schedule!!! In my defense, I did have a very good reason…I got the coronavirus (second person in my state, whoop whoop) and have been extremely sick (getting pneumonia two weeks before makes everything wayyyy worse, btw). But it hasn’t been all bad! I mean, sure, my lungs and bronchial tubes have sustained permanent damage, and yeah, my fever hit 104 more than once (for reference, my basal is 96.2), but having a ‘cheese-grater’ throat means hospital food doesn’t need to be good, because I can barely taste it anyways…AND ALSO I sent an audio clip of my hacking cough to my best friend and she used it to successfully fend off a fuck-boi!! So, like I said, there are real positives to nearly dying, too :)
> 
> Oh, and: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter...

::::::

She really shouldn’t have tried to make me jealous. 

If she hadn’t deliberately flirted with a trainer directly in front of me, we’d both be in a much more satisfied state right now. 

And if she hadn’t bent over in those tiny shorts, showing off her muscular legs and glorious ass to another girl (under the guise of “stretching”), I’d definitely would have let her come by now. 

But she did tease me, she did try to make me jealous…so now, here we are: Kelley, with her back arching off the pool table and hands clawing at the fabric, gagged, and me, tongue buried in her pretty little pussy as I bring her right to the edge over and over again, never letting her cross it. 

::::::

It all started this morning, at breakfast. It was media day, which meant, apart from maybe a stolen moment between sessions, Kelley and I wouldn’t be together until dinner. I had just finished making my girlfriend a plate when Julie’s lowered voice hit my ears. 

“I know, baby, me too…I already asked Kell, she agreed to cover for me…I’m coming right after the team meeting, what’s the room number? Yeah…I love you too, Zach…I’ll see you soon, you can congratulate me on the goal then, okay, baby? And…me too…okay, I’ll talk to you later, be safe.”

Julie was glowing when I turned around, evidently still on a high from talking to her husband. She grinned when our eyes met. 

I’d just opened my mouth to apologize for eavesdropping when she spoke again. 

“Don’t worry about it, Sonny, I wanted you to hear.” She smiled wider at my look of confusion. “I mean, I wanted to let you know that Kelley will have our room to herself tonight, in case you wanted to do anything special. Just,” Julie purses her lips. “Stay away from my bed, okay?”

::::::

I had a short respite after breakfast while the reporter set up, so I decided to text my girlfriend. With Kelley sitting only twenty feet away, preparing to be interviewed by ESPN, I was at the perfect vantage point to watch the reactions to my message play across her face.

‘She’s going to hate me for this,’ I grinned as my fingers flew across the keyboard. 

I press send and lock my phone, gaze fixed upon my girlfriend and soft smirk fixed upon my face. I watch as Kelly laughs at something the producer says before pulling her phone out to check the new notification. I can’t help but smirk harder as her expression goes from curiosity to pure desire. Her eyes shoot up from the message and lock onto mine; her pupils have gone dark, and I can tell her breathing’s gotten labored, too. 

I love how easy it is for me to turn her on. 

Our gazes were still locked as I nonchalantly brought my hands up and used them the cover my throat. Kelley’s eyelids drooped and her mouth fell open. 

“You guys have been working hard, huh?” The reporter’s comment dragged me out of my reverie. I sent Kelley a quick wink before turning around to face the woman sitting across from me. 

“Yeah, definitely.” I shifted my hands to knead my neck and shoulders, still aware of both my horny girlfriend staring at me and the camera now directed at my face. “I’m going to need a serious massage later.” 

He laughed lightly, not picking up on my innuendo (which, thank god), “Carli said the same thing earlier, that ice baths weren’t enough for the strain from yesterday’s training session. What did you guys do?” 

“The days after games are usually focused on recovery, but our fitness tests were scheduled instead,” I answered, smiling. “I think it was done like that in case a future camp was cancelled due to COVID. The coaches and staff needed our numbers now should we have time off, so we can stay in shape and stay motivated for Tokyo.” 

The reporter nodded, “I’ve heard that from MLB coaches as well, that they’re doubling down on fitness in case the season is cut short.” 

I leaned back in my chair and grinned as he switched topics. Not because of his questions, but because I’d just thought of exactly how to tease my girlfriend next. 

:::::::

I sent my second text between interviews, and the desperate and needy look that Kelley sent me upon reading it just made me smirk again. I watched as her gaze dropped to my cocky smile and then my collarbone, her eyebrows furrowed adorably. 

‘God, she must be absolutely soaking right now. One pinch of her clit and I’d have her moaning my name.’ 

:::::::

The bus ride to the training facility was torture for Kelley.

I’d snuck into the bathroom after my interviews were over and taken a picture I knew my girlfriend would enjoy (in it, my shirt is off and my hand is dipping between my legs…). I combined it with a quick text reading, “Be good and this is all for you, baby girl.”

I sent the message 15 minutes later as I was settling into my seat. I didn't even have to turn around to know that the sharp intake of breath from a few rows back belonged to Kelley.

‘Mm, this is is going to be so fucking hot.’ 

::::::

I was wrong. 

Kelley, in an obvious attempt to make me jealous, started flirting with a trainer as soon as we began warmups. She moved down into a lunge and twisted her body from side-to-side, giggling and batting her eyelashes at the other woman the whole while. I watched as she started twirling her hair between her fingers. My blood was boiling- and we’d only been there for five minutes. Like she could feel my heated glare, Kelley hadn’t looked my way once the entire time. 

‘Mine. She is mine. She is my baby girl, she belongs only to me. And look at her, flirting with that stupid trainer like she isn’t. No…this ends now.’ 

Lindsey grabbed my arm and yanked me towards her before I could take more than a few steps. “Don’t, Sonny. I know you’re jealous, I know you want to go over there and stake your claim, but this is practice. The cameras are filming, you promised Vlatko you’d be professional; now act like it.”

I just gritted my teeth and nodded tightly at my best friend. Taking a page out of Kelley’s book, I didn’t look at my girlfriend again. 

::::::

The bus ride back was bearable, my anger somewhat subsided thanks to the workout— until, that is, my phone buzzed. As soon as I saw the message, my vision went red. Lindsey nudged me, tried to pry my fingers out of their death grip on the phone, even squirted water into my face to get my attention. I just snapped my head towards her and let the fury in my eyes speak instead.

Lindsey had already started to say something, but let it go as soon as our gazes met. A minute later, her AirPods were in, head leant back and eyes closed, and I was glaring into space. 

My phone buzzed with another text, from Kelley again. I ignored it and moved my eyes to the window. The sky would have to be the recipient of my fury for now.

::::::

I’m one of the first people off the bus when it slides to a halt in front of our hotel. I speed through the entryway, passing the elevator area in favor of the stairs. 

From a crack between the door and its frame, I watch as my team filters into the lobby. Most of the girls are laughing or smiling, a few are still listening to music…they’re the kind of content I wish I could be. 

I watch as Julie gets on the last elevator, Crystal and Moe following. A minute later, I see Kelley’s slumped form shuffle in to view and press the call button. I’m through the stairwell door in an instant, eyes and feet set towards her. She looks up as I approach; my steps and glare falter momentarily when I see the tears in her eyes. But then my gaze moves down to her lips, and I remember how they looked, smirking and flirting and giggling on the field. And the feelings rush back. 

I grab hold of Kelley’s wrist and start pulling her towards the game room (with both of our roommates upstairs and the coaches talking in the conference area, this is the only place I can think to go). I hear my girlfriend sputter at the suddenness of my actions but push the need to comfort down. I am still absolutely furious. 

We’re inside the empty room seconds later. I spin on my heel and pin Kelley up against the wood, her wrists secured above us in my one hand with the other moving to lock the door. 

“Keep them up. Don’t move.” I lean in close to growl into her ear. I feel Kelley’s entire body shudder. I release my grip and nod when her wrists stay in place, my hands moving to her ass and squeezing tightly. I hear Kelley whimper. I bring my lips to her jaw and start sucking on it harshly. I see Kelley’s mouth fall open and her breath hitch. 

I pull away just long enough to murmur, “Mine,” before my mouth relocates to her pulse point. I sink my teeth into the skin, smirking when I hear my girlfriend call out above me. “Quiet.” I pull away to demand after she whimpers again. “Be a good girl now, like you weren’t before.” I return to her throat, nipping at the skin. 

“Ahh, fuck…” 

A hand moves from her ass to her head in a heartbeat. I tangle my fingers in her hair and yank backwards, exposing her neck and drawing a moan. 

“Be. Quiet.” I glare at her mouth as it lets out another soft cry. 

And then I kiss her. Filthily. Aggressively. Furiously. 

We’re both breathing hard when I finally pull away, Kelley’s bottom lip bleeding. 

“Please,” she whines as I part her legs with my thigh and rock into her. 

“No. I told you to be a good girl. You weren’t.” Kelley’s lip trembles at the harshness of my tone, but I’m not done. “Earlier, on the field…god, how did you think I’d feel, seeing my girlfriend eye-fucking someone else right in front of me, trying to make me jealous. Seeing you flirt with that woman…hearing you giggle, bend over and show off your ass…” I squeeze harshly at the cheek in my hand as I speak, earning a whine. “I told you to be a good girl before, didn’t I? Hmm? Didn’t I?” I move my lips directly to Kelley’s ear when she doesn’t answer, repeating the words in a clipped tone. “Answer me— did I not tell you, did I not COMMAND you, to be a good girl for me? Hmm? Did I not PROMISE to take care of you so well tonight if you were? Answer me, now.” 

“Yes…fuck, Papí…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!!!” Kelley chokes the words out between long gasps of air. 

“I was gonna fuck you so good tonight, I was going to make you see stars. But now,” I pull back. “Now, baby girl, you won’t get to come all night.”

I watch the emotions play out across Kelley’s face. Desire. Regret. Frustration. Need. Disappointment. Lust. Anger. 

“Now, stay perfectly quiet and let me show the world who you belong to.” I move my mouth to her neck. 

‘Mine.’ 

::::::

She didn’t stay quiet. 

As soon as I hear another moan leave her lips, I was grabbing her hand and turning around. I pull her the distance to the pool table and pin her hips against it with my own. I’m tugging her shirt and bra off in one quick motion immediately afterwards, smirking at how sexy my girlfriend’s bare chest is while heaving like this. Kelley whimpers when I step back and moans when I yank her shorts and panties down to her ankles. “Up,” I lift her to sit onto the wooden rail then bend to finish taking off her clothes. Leaving the shorts in a pile at her feet next to her discarded slides, I brought her panties up to my face. “Mmm, you smell so good, baby girl,” I moaned, as I pressed the wet fabric to my nose. Kelley just whimpered. “Now, since you can’t be a good girl and be quiet on your own…open up.” 

Her eyes roll back into her head as I gag her with her own underwear. 

‘Mine.’

::::::

**Author's Note:**

> So......thoughts/comments/feelings/questions/concerns/suggestions? I'll take up to three per person. 
> 
> For real, what did y'all think? 
> 
> #So'HaraIsn'tLivingYetButItWill


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